


Present Day

by erintoknow



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Azeroth, Dalaran, Demons, Disguise, Forsaken, Gen, Magic, Manabomb, Old old work, PTSD, Personal Nostalgia Value Only, Posting for archival reasons only, Recovery, Roleplay Logs / Write-up, Undead, Warcraft - Freeform, don't waste your time reading this, outland - Freeform, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 27,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: From about 2005 to 2008 I was an active role-player on the World of Warcraft US Realm Shadow-Council, and poster on the off-site RP Archive RP Haven (And it's predecessor site whose name I've forgotten).I was cleaning up old files today and found copies of those original write-ups I did as a teenager that I assumed were lost when the RP-Haven went down years ago. It took a little work get the files open and readable since they were saved under a now obsolete file format (Thanks Apple!). A lot of these stories were originally accompanied by screenshots or had metadata on who else's character were involved and to what extent. All of that is lost! Still, I hate losing work permanently, even if it's terrible, amateur, teen, pre-transition Erin's work. So I thought I'd gather everything together in one document and post it up here as well as insurance against future loss.I really can't recommend actually reading this.But if you're that desperate for a snapshot glimpse of a specific server community from a specific point in time from the myopic perspective of a teen's personal rp writings, here you go I guess. If you happen to have also been a member of that specific community 2005-8, say hi!





	1. Chapter 1

1.0 – A State of Liminality

 

_Over the Keel Mountains,_

_Meets an ape with human speech._

_The ape asks,_

_"What clings to you?_

_Bear it - you cannot._

_Accept it - you cannot._

_But hidden - it is from you._

_Recite its name."_

-Epitaph of Twilight, .hack//Quarantine

 

[Erin circa 2019 Note: This title page originally included a big old landscape screenshot, now lost to time and old file formats]


	2. 1.1 join my guild plz

"like dudez, u join my guld plz?"

“No.”

“plz?”

“No.”

“u join guild, me give u gold kk?”

“No.”

“Comon join plzzzzz?”

“No.”

“u big meanie, just join my guild kkthx.”

 

Eskay twitched, feeling increasingly fed up with self acclaimed vampire elf or whatever in the Nether he claimed to be. He felt rather proud that he’d rather politely told the brain rotted creature no for over half an hour now, but this incessant moron couldn’t seem to take a hint. Stalking under the archway into the Canal, Eskay started his twelfth round of pacing through Stormwind since the elf had found him.

“hello????? u join kk???”

Eskay’s temper flared, and he whirled on the elf, letting loose a showy, but impractical ring of fire along the ground in an attempt to scare the elf off. “I’ve had it you endless bag of peanuts! May the light have mercy on your soul if you so much as dare attempt to ask me that acquired question once more! How many rejections must it take for the message to get into that worm infested control center of your sickly purple and hideously gangly body?!”

 

The ninny of an elf stared at Eskay, a trundle of drool beginning to drip from his mouth, uncomprehending the showy speech. Smelling something in the air, the elf stopped his drooling to take a sniff, and stared down at his feet. “dude. y u sets me feetz on fire??? not cool man.” Indeed, the elf’s showy purple shoes had begun burning rather cheerily now. “Ima gunna 2 report u 4 this!”

Taking a deep breath, Eskay attempted his best to regain self control before speaking. “You worthless pile of ogre dung, You didn’t listen to a single thing I said did you?” Eskay sighed and gestured toward the Canal, “You know what? Enough of this, why don’t you cool your heels a bit?’ And with a shrill scream, the elf knocked over by an invisible force, toppled headfirst into the water. Grinning to himself, Eskay dusted off his hands only to freeze as the sound of clapping echoed from behind him.

 

“Well done, well done.” Whirling around Eskay debated whether to turn the man into a sheep on the spot but promptly forgot all. Leaning against the archway, idly filing his nails leaned a man dressed head to toe in intricately covered armor of a golden sheen with long blonde hair and an inhumanly bright smile to match. “Greetings sir mage! My name is, and now, don’t faint, Knuh Hicrylemertxe the seven-hundred-seventy-seventh.” Using a grace not meant for this world the man offered a guantleted hand for shaking.

Eskay gazed at it an awe, feeling as if his soul was being sucked into the layered embroidery, brought to levels no sane man would ever dream of attempting.

Knuh blinked, then frowned slightly, “Oh, yes. I.... forgot.” He dropped his hand to his side and sighed, watching Eskay blinking in a confused daze. “So, what might be thy name sir mage? If you know what I mean.”

Eskay blinked, uncomprehending, “What? Huh? Did you... did you say something?”

Knuh sighed heavily, “I said... My name is, and now, don’t faint, Knuh Hicrylemertxe. What might be thy name sir mage? If you. uh... know what I mean.”

 

Eskay blinked and tilted his head slightly to the side. “My... name?”

“Yes.”

“Um...”

“Yes?”

“Eskay Diasz... I.... um... think...”

“Eskay Diasz.... that’s... it?” Kunh sighed.

“Yes.”

 

“Well Es, may I call you Es?” Kunh slung an arm over Eskay’s shoulder, “Es, have I got the proposition of a lifetime for you. If you uh... know what I mean.” Kunh winked. “What I need, from you, to me, is a signature. But. Not just any signature, your signature. And why do I need your signature?” Eskay squeaked, feeling the air choked out of him. “Why, I’m forming a new Order to better all of Azeroth. What is the Order you ask? Why my dear Es, this order will be called....” The inhumanly perfect man paused for effect. “The Knights of Awesome. What do you say pal? You in? We could really use an... experienced mage not entirely unlike yourself... if you uh... know what I mean.” A flash of that deathly perfect grin, and Knuh released Eskay and drew out a charter and quill while Eskay collapsed against a strangely purple colored pole, gasping for breath.

 

“Hey! Watchit buster!” Hrm. It appeared the strangely purple colored pole was in fact a poorly clothed Night Elf sporting an Obsidian Edged Blade in one hand.

Eskay stumbled away from the new threat, still gasping for air. “Sorry... I... I... twas a.... mistake! Honest!”

Kunh rounded on the elf with a stern glare, “Give the man a break, I don’t need no elf hurting my best buddy here. It was all a mistake, let it go.” And with the deftness of a practiced ballerina Knuh whirled on one foot to face Eskay, “So buddy, how about it? Sign?”

The elf raised an eyebrow. “He’s not guilded?”

Knuh snarled twisting his angelic face into a sickening mockery, “Back off wench, I got him first.”

“Who are you calling a wench, ‘cause uh... you ain’t got no place to talk miss pretty pants.”

Eskay slowly backed away from the pair as the whirled on each other blades and insults flailing about. Thanking the Light for this turn of fortune the mage scrambled about for the nearest exit only to see his worst fear.

 

The fight had quickly drawn in a crowd of people from both sides of the Canal and now any hope of escape was snuffed out. Worser still it wasn’t long until the crowd understood what was being fought over and, like some horror story every set of eyes simultaneously turned to stare at Eskay. A second of silence followed as the fight resolved itself and then the pleas began.

 

“Like, join my guild?”

“Dude, you just have to give me 5 gold! Oh and uh, join my guild?”

“Com’on! Sign the charter!”

“400 bread water k thx bai”

“Port me to IF?”

“Say, have you thought about joining a guild?”

“As ruler of everything I command you to join my minions or die.”

“Hey, join my guild?”

 

And so on, and so forth for what felt to Eskay like an eternity until the poor mage finally snapped.

“That’s it! I can’t take it anymore!” Dropping any facade of control the mage stormed through the crowd leaving a whirlwind of magical chaos with some people frozen others on fire, and even one forced into the form of a sheep, idly chewing a very expensive flower from the Florist’s shop. Barging past one heavily armored knight and knocking him into the Canal the mage’s eyes blazed fire as he made his way into the Trade District Proper and down to Visitors center where the city Guild Master sat on a chair idly twirling his thumbs, whistling in boredom.

The moment Eskay stormed inside however he’d leapt out of chair and stood at his ‘post’ and watched the furious mage with a calm indifference. “Can I help you sir?” “Yes, how much does a charter cost?”

“Only ten silver, but the construction and production of a tabard is ten gold.”

Eskay’s eyes gleamed as plan formed in his head. “How many people do you need to register a charter?”

“Ten.”

“Once the charter is registered can you boot everyone from the guild and still have it remain registered?”

The Guild Master blinked, that was not something asked often. “I believe so sir.”

Eskay cackled, “Excellent! I’ll not have this trouble for much longer! I’ll have one charter if you please...”

“Uh-huh.... well sir, what do you want to call this guild?”

Eskay blinked, thrown off, “Call it?”

“Yes sir, it needs a name or I can’t register it.”

“Okay um... heck I don’t know... Toto? Potato? Potato Totos?" “All right sir, here you go.” Handing over the freshly minted charter the Guild Master watched in mild relief as the mage skipped away and out of the building. “Well...” he mused to himself as he sank back into the chair, “There are worse reasons to start a guild.”

Those who visited later in the day where amused with reports of a freak natural accident in the Stormwind Canal attributed to excessive consumption of snowcones by those involved.


	3. 1.2 Makings of a Plan

 

The invasion has barely been beaten back and already the Horde and the Alliance resume biting each other's throats. Well, to be fair my dear notebook, they never really stopped during the invasion either... just... sort of.. slackened off...

 

 

Sort of.

 

 

However I think I might have an idea to help with that... I mean, the pieces for this have been laying around for ages and yet no one has ever seemed to put it together. Until now that is. Well, of course, I suppose some else might have, and then died horribly because it failed, but that line of thought is depressing and I'm just going to ignore that... yep. Total bloody gory death possible. Completely ignoring it... ayep.

 

 

So yes. The plan. Yes. Good idea, best put down the plan...  yes....

A complete disguise to infiltrate the Horde capitals completely undetected and um.... spread goodwill and encourage friendly negations with the Alliance.... and stuff. Yeah...

 

 _I'm the smartest person in the world_.

 

Now, the question always is... how do you pull it off yes? Clearly the biggest factor is the whole racial barrier, it's very tricky to get past, however I think I have the solution. An orb of Deception can cloak the user's true form, and with it I could take on the guise of a harmless little undead... perfectly normal and completely unworthy of suspicion.

 

 

Just one minor problem. The orb is only a ruse, and does not grant you the ability to speak, let alone understand any foreign language, that would be dead give away I'm sure. So, how to get around this? It's rather simple;

 

 

The Gnomish chatterbox has become used worldwide for fast and kinda-sorta reliable communication by guilds and armies since it's invention. Now, I my knowledge and skill in regards to these fancy toys is comparable to say the chances of a small rabbit eating a fully grown dragon.... whole. I'm confident however that a little fiddling with magic and few gather and learn spells won't interfer with anything important. If it all works I'll have a translator I can stash away and use to understand and speak with the Horde.

Now. All I need is um... lots of money or lots of luck in regards as to actually getting my grubby little hands on either of these delightfull things.

 

 

As the saying goes, "Sometimes it's better to be lucky then good!"

 

 

And when I say, "grubby little hands", my dear butter burnt notebook, that is a litteral statement. Blasted goblins and their blasted drinks and their blasted R.O.I.D.S. pumped bruisers. May many tiny pigs nibble on their eyelids in their sleep!

 

 

Speaking of sleep, what do you know, the sun's set? 


	4. 1.3 Amazing Adventure of Hardship and Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This originally included screenshots, now lost to time and old file formats]

[Erin circa 2019 Note: This originally included screenshots, now lost to time and old file formats]

 

I’d tested the visual aspects of my disguise, but the vocal ones... I wasn’t to sure about. So, the only way to remedy that would be to go where there was lots of talking. Then the spells I had cooked up could do there job, and I’d be able to understand what was being said. As an undead anyway. I zipped into Ogrimmar first, the heart of the Horde, and well um.. it was rather orangey with lots of red... no greens. You can’t have a proper city without some green, somewhere. And no, people don’t count.

So, I ran through the Barrens, into Mulgore, barely escaped a hungry dog with my life, stumbled into a strange elevator type thing and rolled into Thunder bluff.

 

It wasn’t long until I met a rather talkative troll and soon a crowd gathered. I still couldn’t really understand what was going on, and my own attempts at speaking where met with confusion. At least, I think confusion. Never the less, it was all good practice for my modified chatterbox. I tried writing somethings down in my book, but it will be years before I can even begin to understand anything worth saying methinks.

Eventually this one troll, named erm... “Fumble”, no... “Zundle”? No, that’s not it either... “Bumble”?

Well, regardless of name, this troll proposed we go out and slay some buttered potato wedges. I was getting rather hungry really, so I volunteered, it seemed like a capital idea.

 

When we regrouped at the Barrens however, I found myself corrected, we were not going to eat potato wedges after all, rather we were going on an “Amazing Adventure of Hardship and Discovery™” Besides myself and this... erm... troll named Bumble, There was a tauren, ‘Olivea’ I think the name was, and a rather wizened looking orc named Mr. Rumtum. Oh, and this rather nasty ghost dog followed us the whole way, nipping at me. Hmph!

Now, when the troll, “Bumble” said hardship, mind you, she wasn’t kidding. It seems all my power is tied up with my little disguise spell, leaving me rather weak, and... um.... attractive to every hungry thing in 50 yards.

 

A little ways into Desolace, we met up with some a rather irritable troll named “Uzi” or some such, and he stuck with us for the rest of the trip as we slayed countless amounts of wildlife, and a couple of demons. Eventually we reached the end of what seemed to be our journey for the day, as we neared a troll village called Shadowprey.

 

Mr. Rumtum pointed out a group of dyrads nearby as the rest of the group wandered off into the village. At one point, they were staring peacefully at one another and the next, Mr. Rumtum was chopping the poor Dryads’ heads off! I managed to call the rest back, but by then it was too late, all the Dyrads had been killed.

When the group asked who attacked first, and I told them what I saw, they got very angry with Mr. Rumtum, “Uzi” in particular. Mr. Rumtum ran off to fish, and the group parted ways, most back to Thunder Bluff for the night. I was tired so I thought I’d just go to the inn in Shadowprey and switch off the disguise there. I’d barely stepped into the inn when Mr. Rumtum was up behind me, talking about... well.. er, killing me for tell the truth. This wasn’t like last time! I saw it! Much simpler! I wasn’t about to be intimidated this time! So I said my goodbyes, reached for the orb, and switched it all off with a word.

I wonder what he made of that.


	5. 1.4 Plaugeland Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This originally included screenshots, now lost to time and old file formats]

_Rain._

_Big rain, small rain, hard rain,_

_soft rain, happy rain, sad rain,_

_Call it what ever you will, but it's raining._

_Hard._

_I'm huddling in some old ruins and I'm still getting wet._

_See! Spot right on the book! There goes my formula for my thesis on improved what-ever-it-was._

_Alas._

 

_I was just riding down to the old Crown Guard tower, there had been some cry about horde attack or whatever and I thought it was the perfect excuse to stop killing killer-undead-creepy-spiders, and run away in sheer terror from living things for a change of pace._

_It must be all the rain._

_Anyway, yeah, the rainstorm hit so I said, eh, "What the heck Eskay? Why are you running around in the rain on a horse that's trying to bite your hands off?" Weeell... Maybe I didn't say that persay, but I said something like it._

_I'm pretty sure anyway._

_Right. So. I turned a right. Or was it a left? Does it matter? Well. Yes, I suppose it does. The wrong direction in spell casting could place you, say, three hundred feet to the left when leaving a portal. And what's three hundred feet to the left you ask, my notebook? Well..._

_It's A.] The City Waste Center_

_Could be B.] A two thousand foot drop_

_Or even, C.] Solid rock._

_All these choices have unpleasant, maybe, even.. fatal results.. but!_

_I'm rambling._

_So, what-ever-the-hell-way-I-went, I ended up in Darrowshire. Fun place Darrowshire, thriving nightlife. Full of... fungus... real parties that. Wait. No. Um... That's Fun-Gus, Garrowwire nevermind. Now. Darrowshire. Darrowshire. The Battle of Darrowshire. A reenactment for the ages, using real ghosts, real people, real time. Or something like that. All for the ghost of little girl, Pamela Redpath. Nothing's changed in months. Well, no. I take that back. Someone's been screwing around with this one roof of this one building. I think it's supposed to be a repair job, but you don't make a muffin when the batter's gone._

_Or something like that._

 

_I decided to stop by the cemetery, just... just to make sure you know? And yeah, their graves are still as undisturbed as a mountain in Winterspring. I.. I don't know what I'd do if it was all dug up. It's a frightening thought really._

_I should just put up a pyre, get it over with._

_But I can't. So I won't._

_It's... funny really, here I am, sitting in the smoldering ruins of their old home. The rain encroaching in, every chance it gets. They were so much... better at it then I am. Oh yes, so was everyone else in, say, I don't know, the city most likely, but I knew them, so it matters more. And I-_

_Bleh. I can see where this goes. Blah, blah, wah, wah. Mourning, regretting, nothing ever gets done that way. It doesn't bring the dead back, it doesn't make amends, it's such a selfish thing to do. It would be like going to a bunch of starving children and eating a crate of Strawberry Ice cream right in front of them and never offering a bite. Well, not exactly of course, just comparing idiocies... or something. Yeah._

_Well. The rain doesn't seem to be stopping. Been an hour now. It's getting dark out too. I think I'll see if anything of a bed can be salvaged from upstairs. Might be a while. Oh, and yes, almost forgot, Happy birthday to me. That's... what? over 30 years of life now? Maybe that's it._

_Anyways, keep the smiles going, the laughs, the sillies, and the cheers, it's despair that's the enemy here._

 

Eskay gently laid the notebook down on the ground, and dusted his robes off. Carefully moving through the wreckage, the mage skillfully stumbled over, on, and under every obstacle in his way. The ghost that materialized though, as he gently eased the rotting remains of someone's toy doll aside was a startler however. Why would someone's spirit cling to such a pitiful thing? It wasn't doing him any good, that was certain, and as Eskay quickly fumbled his blade out, it was about to do the spirit a great deal of harm.


	6. 1.5 Logical Fallacies

At last! I finally found you notebook! Can't believe I forgot you back in Darrowshire, shocked no one stole ya. Thankfully no one did, so we can all move on with our lives. Next time I be sure to put you back in your extra-dimensional pocket betwixt the anchovies and the seaforium bombs where you belong! Come to think of it... Wasn't I supposed to do something with that seaforium? Blow something up or something? Eh, it'll come to me as I go I suppose.  
Anyway!  
Yes, anyway!  
Er... what was I talking about?  
Oh! Er, 'as I go'! Yes. well. I finally managed to attend one of those blasted University of Kalimdor Field Trips. This was one to through the Plaguelands to Light's Hope. I... uh... don't know if there's anything left for me to learn about the place... but.. uh... always be open to new possibilities! The greatest tragedy is... is... um... something. It's defiantly something... That's... that's.. related to that previous line of thought. Oh, dash-it-all, I've gone and lost my horse of thought. Give me a moment.. I'm sure it'll come back to me.... any.... mo...men....t... Nope. It's gone.  
Prolly got eaten by a mind ghoul or something. Oh well. Moving on.  
As I was saying, thinking, writing, I'd finally made it to a UoK field trip.  
Now, mind you, I was blasted late anyway, had to catch up with them down the road. I swear, it's the increased security standards on those blasted Zeppelins. Why on earth do you care what's in my bloody pockets when I can say a single word and blow your damn airship up in a flaming bally, flame... gas... explosion... thing... Yes. An explosion thing.  
What of it? Got a problem with that Notebook?  
Right.  
Moving on. Again.  
I was late and the trip wasn't at the Bulwark, a nice guard had the kindness to tell me to go eat myself, so I took that to mean, "Where'd the trip go sir? Why they just strolled down that pleasant sunshine lined... er... street leading into the heart of madness itself. Have a great day now!" And thusly a ran after them. As my Yakse guise mind you. No good staying as normal. Might attract ire attention. Plus I wouldn't be able to understand a bloody thing said, and then what would be the point of going? Hold hands with Forsaken and frolic around a bucket full of posies 'till we all fell down? Actually that sounds like the basis for a nice rhyme... hrm... Given the nature of the situation, something involving the lines 'ashes, ashes' would likely be appropriate....  
Oh! Yes. The trip. Yes. Well. I... uh... kinda glazed over most of it really... I'm sorry to say.  
That's not to me I wasn't listening! Don't take me wrong now!  
Don't look at me like that! I was!  
Er... wait... uh...  
Right.  
Yes, well, I was distracted really. First I had to fight off a bear gnawing on my fake forsaken leg, -which was a rather interesting sensory experience I rather not repeat- then a spider tried to lay it's eggs in my head, and then I caught up with the Field Trippers. Shiveabash was there, and an noodly oodle of other people for whom I had no idea what to call. At least there weren't any felhounds. Or, if they were, they were cleverly disguised, in bone-cracking ways.  
Ah, the wonders of modern society.  
Right, so anways, we managed to go over the existence of the Plague cauldrons, although I must say Notebook, their defeatist attitudes aren't going to win any fights here.  
"Why not blow up the cauldron?"  
"They'll send another. Plus it'll rain fallout all over."  
"...you could empty it first?"  
"They'll still send another."  
Right. So. Maybe I'm paraphrasing a little, but frankly this is my notebook and I'll say what I please, be it fact or fiction, isn't that right notebook?  
Uh-huh, damn right.  
But! That's not all, intrepid, non-existanant reader! Soon after we entered the rotting, oozing, moldy heart of madness itself, (I.E. Eastern Plaugelands, as opposed the mild skin rash of the Western Plaugelands) Guess who all the little hordlets want to go visit?  
Go on guess!  
Got nothing?  
Hah! Nathanos Blightcaller! That filthy little traitor! I mean, I know now, for a damn fact that the Forsaken are essentially all free-willed, and yet this ass actively works to try and tear up the people that he worked so hard to protect in life! I mean, sure I can understand a little emotional intensity about people wanting to murder you in your sleep, -if you actually slept anymore- but that's no reason to go and kill them all is it? Is it?  
I mean really now?  
Right. So. Here's the interesting part Notebook. Now, if you'll recall, and you damn well better, you're a book. Some time ago, several months actually, but, haha, who's counting? Anyway, months ago, a whole basket bundle of us folks got together to answer a call from the Alliance to bring 'justice' (or was it 'just ice' I forget...) to Nathanos Blightcaller for his crimes against his apparently former countrymen. It took all twenty of us to take him and his Grah'zilla sized mutts down, but we did it! We succeeded, got the traditional "'grats, here's a shiney, now go away and we'll forget you exist again." and we all went our merry, finger-licking ways.  
So. You see why when everyone's all, "Yaaay, let's go see Nathanos and piss him off with our stupidly large tourist group! *smilesmile*" I was ready to go, "Now-wait-one-finger-licking-second-here! He's dead and done for isn't he?" Of course, I didn't actually say that. That... could lead to... let's call them.. 'issues', and say they involve severe pain with a side dish of eternal torment.  
But! Of course, Notebook, we went to his house and...  
He was there playing fetch with his damn freak dogs that smell of rotting sensitivity. And I swear, he looked right at me once! Don't know if he recognized me. But here I am going all, "Oh hello, didn't I kill you?" In my head, and to add to the pie, Uzil, that strange troll that popped out of nether-knows-where speaks up and defends the rotting bugbear when the topic of his being attacked comes up!  
Oh ye gods!  
Now, my memory, tis fuzzinated now, so forgive me Notebook but it was something like: "Yeah, every now and then these worthless idiots try an' attack him. Poor guy only wants to be left alone."  
Right. So. All I can do is idly stand around, avoid contact, cough politely and hope we move on fast as ye like, and before it's all over, this Nathanos business, Uzil asks me, "You alright?" Haha!  
Ahahaha!  
Ahahahaaha... wooo...  
Gee. I don't know Uzil, what do you think?  
Oh ye gods!


	7. 1.6 Twilight Waltz

_And, one, two, three..._

 

In the East the sapphire lights flicker

Hunters and jackals sing of The Fall

With their priest they long for The Journey

Armed for salvation when twilight falls

And, one, two, three...

 

"Alright ladies and gentleman, before I turn you all loose for rest of the Ball, I've got a few things to say." Groans rose up from the gathered graduates, floating reluctantly up the purple streamer walls, rebounding weakly off the brick walls and further upwards, to the recesses of the tall, vaulted, ceiling of the great hall. Everyone had had just about enough of Master Harrison's 'few things to say' to last a lifetime. Maybe two.

"First, I want absolutely no spell casting during the Ball, I will not, and I say, I will not have a repeat of last week's graduation fiasco where some cheeky little upstart got it in his head to try and magic away all the young ladies' Ball gowns. We're still digging him out from the mountain of clothing behind the school house. So. No spell casting. At all. Do I make myself clear?" Master Harrison stopped to glare at the amassed faces, watching with an air of sightly put off boredom. "Right. Second. I want everyone to get along, I don't care about your past histories towards each other, with all the worry and stress about undead attacking this, undead overthrowing that, we thought this all be a nice thing to get you young people's minds off the catastrophe going on in the Northern Lands and Celebrate one the largest group of future magi yet." The wizened wizard paused to shove his spectacles back up his elongated nose and avert a glass shower. A magic glass shower of course. "I think that covers everything for once." Harrison frowned and straightened his tall, pointy blue hat.

"Oh! Yes. Congratulations on your completed apprenticeships! Let's hope you won't need to test yourselves too soon, hrrm?" The ancient man deftly hopped off the overturned box he had commandeered. "Well. Have at it!"

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

"Hah, you ain't touching me you bony bugger!" Eskay twisted around behind the skeleton as it's makeshift sword clanged against the plague cauldron. Uttering a quick series of arcane verbs, Eskay slashed a short wave of fire across the spine of the skeletal monstrosity, and the charred bones collapsed, it's necromantic magics no longer able to hold it together under so much stress. As the bones crackled and popped down the steps to rest in the field of Dalson's Tears, a much more together undead, a ghoul rushed the mage, it's frantic blows sinking harder and deeper into the mage's mana shield. "Hey, now. Stop that." A quick blast of ice to the ground had the ghoul's rotting feet frozen to the ground as the mage ran off, seeking more distance.

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

_To the West with crimson flares splaying_

_Man's sons and daughters answer the call_

_Valiant tests for souls they are praying_

_Armed for survival as twilight falls_

And, one, two, three...

 

"It's a shame Zeth couldn't make it."

"Yeah, bad timing on breaking that leg. Well, the priest said he'd been good to walk on it again in a week or so."

"That's good."

"Er... you have any idea how this works?"

"I-er I've a general... idea.... um..."

"Well, learning's half the fun awayway."

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

There was a sense of the universe bending in as an orb of fire steadly grew in the cusp of Eskay's hands, pulsing in time to the ryhme of the spell. As the ghoul managed to break free of the melting ice, Eskay finished his chanting and tossed the burning flame underhanded, cackling as it seared the upper torso and burned off an arm. Selecting another spell to nail the ghoul with before it could close distance, the mage was nearly knocked over as a new undead threat started it's attack from behind. "What? One on -ow- one isn't -ow- good enou-ow-gh?" Directing a blast of fire down along the ground, searing the sickly remains of the farmer's crop and setting afire two more undead that had been lazily wandering nearby, Eskay soon found himself surrounded. "Aw, mittens."

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

And the battle starts

And the dance begins

Steel stops their hearts

Plasma opens skin

Plying warrior arts

Cleansing them of sin

Fight for their home world

As twilight falls

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

"So, Noel what are you thinking of doing after this?"

"Oh? Hrm. I haven't thought much about it. Stay in Dalaran I suppose, all this talk of walking dead... the world's not a safe place to travel in these days."

"Eh. I suppose your right. Still. It'd be nice to see the world, I hear they've fully rebuilt Stormwind now, bigger and better then before, with this great big Church at the center."

"And just what would a Church want with a mage?"

"I dunno. Something I bet."

"Uh Huh."

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

Twisting around, in a convoluted dance to avoid a rain of blows from, a worryingly large group of five festering undead, Eskay danced his way around the field, alternating between bursts of fire from the ground, and a series of hailstorms, trying to keep the unfriendly lot at bay. "Com'on people, you stay there, I stay here, I kill you, you die, we all win! Now. I can do my part of the dance, but if you can't bother to put in the effort, where's the point?" Eskay frowned disapprovingly as the unappreciative mob slowly crawled towards him, joints slowed by extreme cold. "Oh come on,"

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

Through the plains the fires are burning

Dying and grappling, finger and claw

Chaos reigns the battle is turning

Look to the Spartan to save them all

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

"Um.... Eskay....? You're... stepping on my foot."

"Oh.... er... sorry."

"It's... It's alright."

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

The last of the corpses collapsed in a burning heap, overwhelmed by the series of hot and cold spells. Eskay briefly stole over them, scooping up a handful of scourge stones and dropping them in a bag. "What? That's all? Fine. No more dance lessons for you lot." Fishing a flask of water out of thin air, Eskay picked a festering grain barrel to rest against. Not to far off, a pair of tauren made their way towards the run down house of the Dalsons', attracting a large number of undead along the way. Sighing, Eskay finished off the flask, tossed it behind him, where it dropped, boiling into the plague cauldron, and tossed a few fire spells at their adversaries. No point in letting perfectly good catt- tauren go to waste. Moving on to try to instruct yet another scourge how to waltz, Eskay watched the pair from the corner of his eye, stopping now and then to toss a spell on one of their opponents if the odds looked against them.

_And, one, two, three..._

 

Two remain, their brothers are dying

Whirling and clashing, Death's brutal ball

Hear their pain, the wounded are crying,

"Fight for my home world!” “Avenge us all!"

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

"So... what do you think of the Ball so far eh?"

"I don't know... the slow music's nice... but, a little variety wouldn't hurt to much would it?"

"Well... in theory no... Maybe."

"No, seriously! Heh, you're always playing with stuff like that, I bet you could think up something better."

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

Eskay moved onwards, deciding to poke his head into the old barn, see if anyone had left anything neat, and got trio of walking dead eager for dance lessons. "Ack! Not all at once! Not all at once! Bad skellies! Bad!" Freezing the ground again, Eskay leaped around the tap dancing trio. Well if you can call tap dancing waving pointy sticks about. Blasting them with a piller of fire, the magi methodically waltzed around them, collapsing one after another in carefully placed blasts of flame and ice. "Now, that's more like it, Com'on, again, with feeling! Or... something... Yeah."

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

Through the plains (Dancers played their part)

the fires are burning (To defend their kin)

Dying and grappling (Steel stopped their hearts)

Finger and claw (Plasma burned their skin)

Chaos reigns (Plying warrior art)

For peace they are yearning (Yearning they will win)

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

The torches went out, suddenly, and simultaneously across the mammoth sized Ball room, a few brief cries of shock and some shuffling and the entire room went dead quiet, well, minus all the muttering.

"Who did that? What's happened?"

"I don't know, I think someone broke Master Harrison's little rule...."

As if on cue, which in retrospect, it probably literally was, a pair of torches near the front of the room light up again, illuminating the bedraggled look of Master Harrison and a small message boy whom had panic stamped over his face like it was going out of style. Which it was. Master Harrison tapped his staff against the wall for silence and coughed. "Attention! Attention! I'm afraid we'll have to cut the Ball short." He paused, eyes closed, taking a deep breath as a chorus of "What?" and "Why?" reverberated around the room. "Now, nobody panic, everyone remain calm. We've just received reports of a huge amassing of the undead, moving south towards here from Alterac. They're less then a day's march away, and'll be here before Sunrise most possibly. As of this moment, under official declaration of Antonidas; Dalaran is on a state of High Alert, you are all to return to your quarters and prepare for the very real possibility of combat." A cry of panic rose up through the room like a banshee wail, Master Harrison sighed, "Please, remain calm. I'm... I'm sorry it had to happen now, of all times. I'm... so sorry. However, there's still the chance we'll be bypassed. Regardless it's not likely, and we must be ready. The Archmagi are already at work preparing as best a defense as they can muster. Every able body must be ready to stand in a help. Do I make myself clear?"

 

_And, one, two, three..._

 

Eskay skipped out of the barn, which had a cheery smoke pillar sifting through the rotting thatch roof by now, and spied the same pair of tauren from before, in over their heads as a healthy collection of undead attempted to dine on fresh brains. Startled, it took the magi a few moments to late to send of a blast of flame to aid the pair, as the bigger one, the male fell under a barrage of rotting, swinging, hands. Helping the remaining one finish off the last of the undead, Eskay warily moved to check on the condition of the battered warriors. A Scarlet patrol chose that moment to prance by however, and, unable to take on a trio of bowman, magician, and priest plus mangy mutt, Eskay was forced to turn tail, it looked like today's dance was over, and down a tauren to boot. Well. That wasn't any fun.

 

_And, one, two, three..._

_Fight for their home world_

_As twilight falls_

_And, stop._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Original Note circa 2005: Yes, it's the lame 'piece structured around a song' format, however, I still like it enough to repost it. Song's called 'As Twilight Falls' and was composedinated by Linnea, handy-dandy like is here. ))
> 
> [Erin circa 2019 note: The link didn’t survive from 2007, I tried to find it again and turn up nothing. If I remember it was a personal webpage, remember when those were a thing in 2005? jesus]


	8. 1.7 How the Heroes Died

“Excellent Eskay, this temper will work perfectly, and you have the name of the demon?"

I slowly, nodded, tired from swimming back and forth across the Azshara sea all day.

The demon hunter continued; "Now, after facing down a Demi-god and a veritable sea-queen, this next part's the easy step. In order to forge a proper weapon able of defeating our demonic enemy we'll need to craft a blade inscribed with his name. To do that, we need something to craft with! The mountain giants in southern Azshara leave a waste material called, 'Azsharite' it's a particularly useful... material, but the raging mountain giants make such supply trips short and and one-sided. I trust someone as capable as yourself can handle collecting roughly twenty good sized chunks?" The demon hunter, though blinded, succeeded in eying me skeptically regardless.

I nodded, confident, if not exhausted. "Of course. No problemo, lead me to them and all that stuff."

He cracked a grin, "Excellent. After all this, I suppose it's only fair for me to lend you the aid of a few of my pets." The elf tossed a heavy sack at me, socking me in the stomach, "There's instructions and the summoning device in there."

Heaving the pack over my shoulder, I grunted. "Do this alot do you? Sending random travelers off to collect shiny pieces of poop for you?"

The blindfolded elf suppressed a snicker, "You could say that, certainly. If you'll excuse me for now however, I've mediations to do." The elf bowed slightly and trotted off, down the small stoney hill and into the cave of the depressingly small island.

I sighed, I've learned long ago not to question the actions of certain people, the world not making sense at it's most basic levels was just another fact of life to deal with. Turning around I made my way, a whole 6 steps, to the edge of the sea and dropped the bag before plopping down beside it. Flipping the bag upside down, a two inch thick book and a small, ominous purple orb tumbled out, leaving impact craters in the sand. To tired to go about reading a novel, -and heck, who reads instruction manuals anyway?- I fumbled around with the orb.

A felhound came out. It's ghostly image wafting out into the world and taking form, making itself real and then staring. Expectantly at me.

 _Oh gods_. Of all things... a felhound? Gods, why? Face me with any undead, any other demon, but... I can't stand felhounds! It's too close!

Frantically I toyed with the increasingly rebellious orb until I had not just the one, but an entire pack of five, five drooling, salivating felhounds, staring, watching, hungering. The damn orb broke then, crumbling to dust in my hands.

_Oh gods, why?_

I can hear it, the screams, the warcalls...

Arthas has broken the first barrier!

Alpha base has been ransacked, razed to the ground! No survivors. Master Harrison was there.

Arthas has slain the second Archmagi! The second level of the barrier has fallen!

Beta base has been burned to the ground, torn apart house by house! Jason and Phil, the regulars at the pub were stationed there.

Antonidas has been killed! Slain by Arthas himself! The leader of Dalaran, the most powerful mage alive, dead.

There was the brief respite, as the scourge tore our library shelf from shelf stealing the spellbook of Medhiv and fleeing the ctiy, despite the upperhand. We hoped of some internal dispute, something we could wedge our victory into. But no!

The summoning, the demons, Archimonde himself! Infernals raining down from the sky, smashing through buildings, turning every kitchen, every bathroom into a warzone. Alongside the new onslaught of the dead waves of felbeast run though the streets! Magic thousands of years old sucked dry and ripped to pieces!

_Oh gods, I can still see it. There's nothing else in miles, all just water and rock... and felhound! I can still see it, clear as yesterday, We, Zeth, Noel, and I, along with a handful of others running through the streets, under the burning sky, seeking some way out, some sort of sanctuary! Two felbeasts found us! We fought, we tossed sword and spear, fire and ice, first one was down, then the other. We'd lost four our number, no one I knew, just some... just some kitchen boy and his family, to slow to evade attack._

We almost had reached the city wall, or what was left of it rather, crushed to cinders and ashes, a mere imaginary boundary was all that was left. A flash of green fire! An infernal had struck! We ran, leaving behind the pair that had been the first targets of the mindless golem's fury, their screams in our ears. Luck! Band of paladins? No, only one, with several ordinary men and women dressed in what ever armor they could find, fending off a sea of the dead, protecting a small group of survivors, If we reached them, we'd be safer. The hounds attacked again! Closer this time! We had lost our weapons, to exhausted and drained for another spell, we could only run.

The screams.... Noel! A look back, one of the demons had Noel, it's pair of antenna like tentacles rising from it's head adhered to her, sucking her dry of every last drop of energy, mana or otherwise. Zeth saw it too, screw the saftey of the larger group, Noel! No weapons, can't cut the beast, not strong enough to attack it with our bare hands, Zeth managed to conjure a small spell, but... nothing. The beast thrashed at us, still feeding -Noel!-, we probably would have died, probably should have died. The group of soliders must have noticed us, a hammer swung in from behind and smashed the demon's head against a the ground, a pair of swords eagerly cut through the beast's tentacled appendages...

Noel was alive! Barely. But. Alive!

The two us, the three of us, in with this larger group, to spent to offer any kind of help, slowly, picking up bands of soldiers and refugees, making our flight from Dalaran under the wake of a demonic invasion of which humanity had never suffered before. Dalaran burned, and it's ashes would soon mingle with the ashes of countless other cities.

But Noel! Noel! She was too weak, the trauma was too much.... she died. She died! Not long after, Zeth died too! He'd lost heart, didn't move in time, the scourge got him. Stuck in a group of strangers. Led by a paladin, who's face I've never again seen since then. I imagine they got him too, or the Scarlet Crusade did. I probably would have joined, but. It was too much! Too much! Noel had died! Zeth had died! Everyone I knew had died! I-

I fell over, face first into the salty water of the sea, taken from surprise from the thump on my back, gurgling, I rolled over and glared about, only to be greeted with the frowning visage, still halfway intrenched in my daymare.

The demon hunter leaned back slightly and sighed. "Look kid, er... older kid, It's not my business if you go all wailing and blubbering about, but can you do it somewhere else and not on my island? I've got an image to maintain here." He sighed, thinking over his words carefully choosing them with the care of a master bricksmith preparing his mud. "Look, if you go all to pieces at seeing some tiny little felhound, maybe you shouldn't be in this business, I've got others out there, fighting demons, you wouldn't be missed trust me."

 

I slowly picked myself up, leaning carefully on my stave, clutching it for support as a child clutches their blanket.

I spent a long time, staring at the demon hunter, before turning around and walking out, into the sea, and towards shore.


	9. 1.8 Talkin'bout a Mystery

Today, notebook, was interesting to say the least. What with all the hubbub in Thunderbluff over the Cow King's death, er, sorry, Carine, Craine, Carine, Cainre, Carnie, Ciorne, Karn, sweet potato Cow king it is.

Anyway. Moving on.

It seemed like a good idea to saunter all the way over to Brill, shoddy little town that it is, least I run into an angry Shiveabash, I swear, forget shadows, let's go with anti-light. Don't know what the deal with that is. Don't care! Just stay away! Ye gods!

Right. Anyway. Brill.

Oh! They put together this Market thingy today in Brill, I bought two bags off this one priestly looking... lass? If they're dead, can you still call them a lass? Howabout an Unlass? Hrm... no, that doesn't sound right at all... Hrm... Oh! Right, the market. Er.

 

Another pair were giving away some pets from the... er... what was it? Royal Apricot Saloon? Must have been a promo for a new organization. But. Royal Apricot Saloon? What kinda name is that? Really now?

In anycase, received a Prairie Dog from 'em, er... Prairie Dogs, are supposed to have glowing yellow eyes right? I never thought to ask then. Oh well, what's the worse it can do?

...

...

...

Don't answer that.

 

I've meet some strange people here too.

I... uh... can't remember all of their names, but uh... yeah. I'm terrible like that, so sho-

-second thought, don't.

But uh... lessee... there was a talkative wanna-be mage that looked like she just dug her way out of grave six feet under just yesterday. - Pleasant image I know- A strange other forsaken person in a weird red dress, whom I couldn't shake the impression that she was preaching, not to me, but at me, and this fellowette.

Ah! A name!

Yeah, this lass's name is really sticking in my head somehow, can't figure why...

 

 

Maleren... Maleren... Maleren... Hrm...

You know, I've got an old contact list rotting away in some otherspace pocket... I'ma go grab it... I've got it. Recall it a bet better now too, It's been over -what?- Seven, eight, years now though, I'm not sure. This was a chippie named Maleren in the whole study group of us at Dalaran. She ran off somewhere along the way... forget when, wasn't there for Dalaran's fall. I think anyway, I'd uh... rather not maul over that particular series of events to much.

You've got to be kidding me, if this is the same person. I can't imagine any, er, corpse from the Dalaran area, lasting long enough to be around to be freed from the scourge.

Course, we've still got the walking dead all over the Plaguelands, so, who can say?

I can't just let this particular dog lay, 'e claims not to recall anything, but I think I'll try and hit up someone in Brill to write out a letter for me, or wait, no. I can just use the Dalaranian superscript we used when writing down spells, if she's still a spellcaster, she's got to remember that hasn't she? If she responds thinking it's gibberish I'll have to make sure some other way, but if she understands it...

Er... then what? I'm not really a forsaken, it's all an elaborate ruse in the pursuit of knowledge, Aaaarg, this is making my head hurt.

The cute little rodent gnawing on my ankle doesn't help either.


	10. 1.9 Welcome to Our Class Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This originally included screenshots, now lost to time and old file formats]

"..."

"..."

"..."

A cough.

A blinking of eyes.

"...er.... 'ello?"

A look of confusion.

Silence.

"'join ma guildz plz?"

"HEATHENOUS DIRT BREATHER! PERISH!"

A cheery fire.

A clash a thunder.

"Oh drat-it-at-all... curse you rain! Curse you!"

A crispy charred skeleton running away.

Silence once more.

"...what are you looking at?!"

\----------

Yakse sighed, shaking his head at the innkeeper's wares. "Just how do you get away with selling mold?"

Silence.

"Who honestly eats that? For reals?"

The innkeeper flicked a fly out of his nose.

"Heeellloo? Are you even listening?"

Silence.

"Yeah. I see how it is, I'm not buying from you ever again. Ever." Yakse sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, only to freeze as a voice called his name from behind him. Whirling around, and only accidentally missing smacking the innkeeper in the face, Yakse scrambled about for the person calling for him.

"Oh! Er... Maleren! Um... greetings!"

"Hello."

"Oh! I got your mail thingy... thing. Er..."

"Are you always this articulate?"

Yakse stumbled for a moment, "Um, uh, er... you know, I can't really say I'm the judge of that..." Yakse coughed, nervously.

"Hmmmm, you have a point."

Silence.

Maleren looked around the down troddern, overgrown graveyard the Forsaken had taken to like leaves take to trees. "I don't guess you have a better place to talk do you?"

"Um... that's a good question... all the places around here are er... infested?" _Ack! No! Infested is -not- a good word choice!_ "No... that's no the right word... er..." _Think Eskay, think! ... Think better!_

"Already claimed?" Yakse suggested rather lamely, Maleren just looked at Yakse. The imaginary mage shrugged, earning him a disappointed sigh in response. _Wait! Aha! Victory!_

Yakse snapped his fingers, "Oh! There's a place thingy path type thingy that leads to this beach, no shelter but not much in the way of hungry beasties." "Okay."

 

\----------

Yakse dived for cover under an evergreen tree that seemed not to understand the point of being 'ever green' with it's high up brow of dying needles. The flat area was dominated by mountains to the east, flat beach north and south, and a strange pillar overlooking the unending ocean floundering west. The rain continued pouring down like sand through a sieve, fine granules of time itself pecking at your head, tick, peck, tock, tick, peck, tock, tick, peck, tock.

Maleren settled down against the tree as well, and let the a moment claw by before shattering silence. " I thought the letter was a joke at first... but the more I looked at it, the more it made a little sense. I'm sorry to say I don't really remember much at all... expect a name and I don't even know why..." Maleren paused as if stopping to put a sieve through her own thoughts, before continuing, "Noel..."

Yakse frowned and tilted his head to the side. "Noel? Er, um, weeeelll..."

"Does that mean anything to you?"

Yakse gagged, _Mean anything? Anything? Ah-ha-ha... aaaaaaaaghghghg! Gugrlesplorkmuffinbucketspinecones-_

"Are you okay? You sound like your choking or something."

Yakse coughed, clearing his throat, "I'm... fine."

"Okay..."

"Well um... Noel. Gee, um. Well... I think you and Noel were studdy buddies... but it's uh... been a long time..."

_Circleofsquaredpowertotheeighthno-no-nothat'sallwrongEskayheresee?Tryitthisway.IwantasecondopinionNoel.Maleren!Overhere!Whatdoyouthink?Well-_

"How long has it been anyway?"

Yakse blinked, saved by Maleren's question. "How long? Well um... Let's see... Almost... well... there was the year after Dalaran fell..." _Damn you Arthas!_ "then 4, 5, um... It's been at least five, -maybe six?- years since, honestly it's all starting to run together for me." _Yeah, like taffy left out in the sun. For a year. Maybe two. Yeah, let's make it two._

Maleren... well, not brightened up... maybe brightened down at that, "You have memory problems too?! I think this Forsaken life is curse upon our mental facilities, really." _-Like hell it is, try Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome or Trauma induced Amnesia, or million other things, fates only knows!-_ "At least you remember something."

Yakse sighed, "Well er.... the... final days of Dalaran were very..." _-LIVING HELL-_ "..traumatic... perhaps not recalling that part wouldn't be so bad..." _-Damn you Arthas!-_

Maleren, curiosity unleashed like the proverbial flood out of the proverbial gate, continued with the questions; "So we were students? Ummm, what were we studying?" _-NononoEskay!You'llnevermakeitifyoukeepcastingfireballslikethat!Controltheflow,learnablanceoryou'llonlyburnyourself!-_ "I take it Dalaran is gone now?" _-Thescreams!Noel!No!-_

Yakse grimaced, "Um.. yeah."

"I'm sorry to be asking so many questions so quickly......"

Yakse sighed, _Okay, count to ten, one, two, threeee... fooour... fiiive... there. Better already! Woot._ "It's alright, I'll just... leave it Dalaran being gone... and erm... yes we were students.. er...."

Yakse trailed off, realizing Maleren was speaking again.

"I just didn't think there was anyone left who knew me... much less another Forsaken..." _-What is your problem woman?!-_

Yakse coughed, "Well... um..." _-Oh I'm going to hell anyway, might as well pick up a handbasket.-_ "Look. I'm not... really... um... er..."

Maleren frowned, confused, "Oh dear, I've made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

"Well... um.. I..." _-Oh gods, just spit out man!-_ "Look, I made it out alive. I just recently got my hands on this... this... orb thingy... and toyed with it... alot... Er..." Yakse coughed.

Maleren studied her hands in her lap, watching the rain water collect and dribble off, head titled to one side, "I don't understand what you're saying."

"Um... there's this artifact thingy I found that lets you disguise yourself... I'm still alive, this is just a um.. disguise, er... um..." -Pleasedon'teatmepleasedon'teatme?-

 

Maleren stared at Yakse, unblinking, "You mean..... you mean you're still "Human"?!"

Yakse smiled nervously and nodded.

_Ahahahahapleasegoddon'teatme_

Maleren lowered her voice needlessly, the nearest living thing was a troll that hadn't moved to so much as blink, well out side hearing range. "But... that's so dangerous for you. These Forsaken, some of them are quite insane." _-Score! She's not going to eat me!-_ "If they knew..." Maleren shook her head, trailing off her road of thought before tripping back on it, Why do you do it then? I would be scared to death." _-Learning to take advantage of the Human mind's tendency towards ignoring things is a wonderful thing Maleren.-_

Yakse coughed and shrugged, "Well, if they found out, all I need to do is say the... the... disengage word, 'pull the tab' so to speak, and 'Yakse' poofs into thin air, and I'm back home, safe and sound... I'm a coward at heart really, I rather thought this through..." _-Liar! Liar lair staff for hire! -Shut up conscience.-_

Maleren sighed with relief, satisfied with this explanation.

"Good, I would hate to think something bad might happen to the only person I've met so far that knew me even a tiny bit." Maleren paused, " _So_ , what do I call you? Yakse or...?"

"My real name is Eskay Vale Diasz, or Just Eskay." Yakse said his full name with a dash of pride, but then, people tend to take pride in the only thing they have left of their parents beyond a fuzzy memo-

"But is it safe to call you Eskay?"

Yakse frowned and scratched his head, "I er... dunno... I don't think anyone amongst the Horde would draw the connection..." _-Yay for being a nobody!-_ "Besides, I can't be the _only_ Eskay in the whole wide world right? That's just silly."

Maleren nodded slowly, "This is all so strange... I'll tell you what, to be safe, I'll only call you Eskay in private."

Yakse shrugged, "Ooookay then."

"Can you just answer me one question?" Maleren seemed to be hanging over some great puddle from the strain in her voice.

"Oookay."

"Do you know my husband?"

"You're husband? Oh!" _-Eskay,Noel,Zeth,hesaidyes!We'regoingtogetmarried!-_ "Er... I know you got married... er..." Yakse trailed off, thinking.

"But...?" Maleren teetered on the edge of the puddle, ready to splash.

"I... I can't remember who to... it's like a big blank spot... I remember the wedding, your going off on some honeymoon or something..." _-Sowhere'reyoutwogoing?Alloverthecountry!-_ "But... I can't remember." Yakse frowned, rubbing his head, " I'm sorry."

"Ah... I understand." Splash!

 

\----------

"Eskay... Where does the road go from here?"

Yakse blinked, taken by surprise, "Well um..." _-Road?-_ "There's several roads... and um... I don't know how to read the street signs..." _-Darn orcs! Learn to write proper common!-_

Maleren frowned, mauling it over, "Somehow I know exactly what you mean." _-Wait, what? Oh._ That _road. Crap. Well er... Eskay... Say nothing.-_

Maleren continued, "Do we keep in touch then? I hate to pile a bunch of questions on you all at once, especially when some them seem to make you nervous." _-Nervous ain't the half of it Maleren.-_

"Well... er... if you want to. I don't mind at all, I thought everyone I knew was... gone."

"Is there no one else left then?"

"I don't know... We've lost so many... Zeth, Noel, Kurft, Harrison... and alot that made it... well... didn't make it mentally..." _-DoyouseethisEskay?WhatZealus?Thisisahumanskull.Itmakesforgoodeating.-_

Maleren wrinkled her forehead in thought, "Zeth? Zeth... he didn't like to study much... I don't think...?"

Yakse nodded, and tried a smile, "Sounds like him."

"For some reason I keep thinking he had pretty eyes..." A sigh.

"It's very hazey... like trying to see through murky water..."

"Well. Get enough rain and the water starts clearing up right?"

Maleren smiled slightly, "We certainly seem to be getting quite a bit of rain." She turned her gaze skywards, towards the falling droplets of water, pure and untainted by the scarred Silverpine landscape.

Yakse adjusted an arm, letting a whole gathering puddle slosh to the ground and glanced upwards as well. "It builds up I guess. It used to not rain for the longest time... now it'll rain for hours on end."

"Well, Yakse may be an illusion that you can just take off and be safe and warm and _dry_ at home, but I'm not, and even _I'm_ starting to feel the cold ground underneath me." Maleren looked at her soaking wet clothes, possibly resigning herself to some amount of dry cleaning.

"Well. Er.. you want to head back then?"

"I think we should."

The pair eased themselves up off the soaked ground and started the long walk back to base. The rain pouring down, strong as ever, washing away the signs of the past.


	11. 1.9.5 Your Mom

"Aaaand, here we are!" Eskay gestured dramatically towards the ramshackle wooden building crammed in between the brick architecture of an inn and an abandoned post office, as if the building had been tossed in as an afterthought, so as to not let good space go to waste.

The single large pane of glass set into the wall facing the street showed the silhouettes of various people gathered around tables, playing cards and raising mugs, seemingly painted into the smeared grease and dirt. ( It actually was, to be truthful. ) Above the rough wooden door a was hung a green wooden sign swinging over the street by an outgrowth of several small poles tried together. The writing on the sign looked completely illegible.

 

Also dangling from the pole, behind the sign, was a rope with an shriveled green hand tied at the end. "They used to call it 'The Hanged Orc' but but when people started complaining about the smell they downsized it to 'The Hanged Hand'."

 

Noel coughed politely, trying not to let any sign of emotion betray her. "Um. When you said you knew a great place to eat... I was thinking of something... a little more..." Noel glanced about, avoiding Eskay's gaze, "...classy."

 

Eskay's hand dropped, "Ah." Recovering, the young man regained his enthusiasm. "Pfft, this place serves food just as great -if not better- then some of those fancy-pants upper-scale whatnot places." He coughed into the back of his hand; "Cheaper too."

"I... suppose..."

"Plus it's got a great atmosphere! I swear, you could suffocate a rock with the air of some of those places."

"Er... I... guess...?"

"Great! It's settled!" Grabbing her hand, Eskay practically dove into the Tavern, tugging a reluctant Noel behind him. The tavern wasn't nearly as crowded as the 'window' had made it out to be, nevertheless there was likely a good dozen or so people scattered across the small tavern floor, talking jovially, occasionally laughing at some joke or outrageous comment. Eskay didn't seem bothered by the smell, but Noel couldn't help wincing, the place reeked.

 

Behind the bar counter a portly bearded man, hair greying with age waved in greetings at the two. "Eskay M'boy! Nice to see you again! Who's your lady friend there?"

Eskay smiled, " 'ello to you too Mr. Howards!" He tugged at Noel's hand again, urging her forward, "This is Noel! She's also training to be a mage."

Noel bobbed a small curtsy, feeling horribly out of place, "Um... Pleased to make your... acquaintance."

Howards the Bartender nodded approvingly, "I didn't know they were training 'gels to be anything but housewives in the upper houses... Well, I'm glad to hear it! You stick at it, show those fussy straightlaces what-for!" Noel blushed and looked away, forming a sudden interest in the wooden countertop.

 

Eskay coughed politely, "Um, Howards, I was hoping... maybe we could get a table...?"

The portly man looked between the two, "Oh! Of course, of course, business is slow today, pick which ever one you like... I'll go see what's cooking on the fire..." With that, the bartender shuffled off.

Eskay glanced at Noel, "Er... you alright?"

Noel, taking a breath and dusting off imaginary dust from her violet Dalaran robes, nodded. "Just... a little out of my element... not used to going to a... a..."

"Tavern?" Eskay suggested as they weaved through the tables that had been haphazardly strewn across the floor.

"That, yeah." Finding a table that was still standing up and had some how succeeded in keeping two chairs that didn't look ready to fall apart, Noel whispered under her breath as they sat down. "Aren't you nervous?"

Eskay arched an eyebrow, confused, "Bwuh?"

"I mean, aren't you afraid of being mugged by someone in here? Or killed or something?"

"Why would they do that?"

Noel frowned, forced to confront her own stereotypes. "Because... well, they're commoners, they aren't educated, you can't-"

"Noel, if you can't trust the people you depend on to build your buildings, clean your roads, and carry out all the basics of society, how can you trust anyone? Sure's there's a few bad people here and there, but you can say that of any group or class." Eskay frowned, concerned.

"Well... I guess..." Noel sank into her chair. "It's easier for you, you grew up in a refugee village," she added accusingly. "But. I guess you're right."

"If you're really that uncomfortable, we can leave, Mr. Howards won't mind, I'm sure."

Noel blew at a strand of hair that had fallen between her eyes, "No, too late now..." She pushed herself back upright in her chair, "I'll be fine."

 

It was that moment that Howards chose to reappear, "You're in a for a treat, the missus got a good deal on a couple of chickens down in the market."

"You interested Noel?"

"...I like chicken..."

Howards grinned and nodded, "Great, great, It's uh, not ready yet though, you two want some drinks in the meantime?" After a bit of guesswork, the pair settled on a drink and watched the portly fellow bumble off, to whatever back room the drinks were stored in. After that the time passed pleasantly, stopping briefly with Howard's return, dropping off two makeshift glasses as he went about the tavern, tending to other patrons-

"NOEL! My darlink little sun muffin! What are you doing here?"

Noel went ridged, staring at the well dressed figure standing in the doorway, mortified. "MOTHER?!"

Scrabbling to turn around, Eskay almost fell out of his seat. "What?"

Swooping towards Noel was an aging well dressed woman whom had the appearance of being unwilling to let 'beauty' go without a tooth and nail fight. Almost pulling Noel out of her seat with a sudden hug the women prattled on, "Here I am peekink in door, -wanting to talk to manager person about health code violations- and here I see my dear daughter sitting at table!"

 

Eskay covered his mouth, trying not to laugh, "Sun muffin?"

"Don't. Ask." Noel managed to squeak out, glaring.

 

In a sudden switch, Noel's mother let go and turned on Eskay, prodding him with a finger. "And who is this?"

"Mother... this is Eskay Diasz, he's also training to be a mage so you can stop prodding him like that now."

Noel's mother ran a hand through her thinning hair, thinking, "Diasz... Diasz... I do not think I am familiar with that family..."

"I'm an out-of-towner, Mr. Harrison is sponsoring my training." Eskay managed to interject.

Noel's mom snapped her fingers, "Oh! Yes! Of course, of course, I am remembering now! Richard was talking about it, yes." She stared Eskay down, as if judging the worth of his soul. "Very impressive, basic fire and lighting magics without any training at all! You're very lucky that such a rich and generous man as Richard stumbled on you, yes?"

"I... guess?"

"Of course! Of course!" Noel's mom laughed while both Noel and Eskay sank into their seats. The laughter cut off abruptly, "Now why are you here of all places?"

"Er-"

"-Eskay was telling me about how great the food is here, so I thought I'd see if it's true."

Noel's mom managed to say "Ah! Marvelous!" before whirling on Eskay, "But you are payink right?"

Eskay wilted slightly, "Of... course."

 

Noel's mother's face brightened up, "How gentlemanly! It does an old woman's heart good to see chivalry is still alive in this world. Honestly, I am so happy to be seeing Noel out of the house for once, doing somethink besides visiting a library!" She swept Noel, whom was already red with embarrassment, into another large hug. "I will leave you be, I'm sure you have much more interestink things then talking to an old woman. But Noel, do visit your old mother more often! I am missing seeink you!" Kissing her daughter on the head, she waved and pranced out the door, back to the street, her quest for the owner of the Hanged Hand seemingly forgotten.

Eskay and Noel stared at each from across the table. Finally, Eskay managed to say, "That was your _mother_?!"

Noel laughed nervously, "She's... something else."

"She's seems nice though."

"Yeah."

 

\------

 

"Yo, bub, ya gonna orda' a drink or wha?"

Eskay jerked upwards, startled out of his reverie, "What? Oh..." The mage shook his head. "No thanks, I brought my own."

The elf arched an eyebrow, hands on her hips. "Wha-?" She stared as Eskay flipped off his obnoxiously orange hat, pulling a small metal mug out from inside it, and then, after a passing inspection, flipped the orange hat back onto his head.

The copper haired mage took a sip from the mug and shrugged, "Tastes okay."

The elf stared, trying to work out what had just happened. Failing to come up with a sensible conclusion, the irritated bartender through her arms up in frustration and stormed away, muttering under her breath.

Eskay sullenly nursed at his drink, lost in thought and staring at the opposite wall, paying no mind to the comings and goings of the tavern patrons.


	12. 1.10 But for a Piece of Peace

I feel as if you deserve an update on my ponderings Notebook, ever since I first stole you away from Ras Frostwhisper's rat infested, skeletaly adorned library and properly outfitted you with fresh, blank pages, -free of necromantic taint- the call to fill the each and every blank page with the spiraling words of knowledge and information, wrapped around themselves in an expression of infinite regression has nagged at the back of my mind, and truly is the sole reason why I've bothered to keep up with the recording for any length of time at all. (Especially with you Notebook, for -and forgive me- I can not shake the feeling of a kind of reverse inspection taking place when I write and read from you, and I idly wonder, _whom_ writes _whom_?)

For, now, I must be honest with you Notebook, the pinning down of thoughts and ideas to the canvas of paper, like butterflies in a collector's display, does not come easily to me, for once the idea is pinned and catalogued, it is gone, only retrievable from the shady, dusty corner into which that slide has been archived.

For what beauty can remain when it's container is pierced and bound to an inferior container?

But as of late, I've been learning some new tricks, mind games and mental practices, and of this I find myself in need of mercilessly pinning down, labeling, and examining each and every thought so that I might begin to paint the outline of the picture from which a whole may be perceived, regardless of how dimmed over, distorted by darkness, it might be.

And it is to this, that I come to the subject of magic, or to be precise, magic.

Even the most common peasant, when pressed long enough, and perhaps encouraged with the gleam of minted silver, will admit to a basic understanding of how magic is performed. A series of gestures and elvish syllables that, in concert work to enact a change in the world.

Now, I have oft wondered; Why elvish syllables and gestures? Yes, the Night Elf Highborn were first in their understanding of the well and through their survivors we have the entire Quel'Thalas understanding of, and school of, magic. But what of those groups that developed magic independently? What of trolls? There was no sharing of knowledge between elf and troll, neither side can understanding the linguistics of the other! Yet trolls today have an entirely independent school and understanding of magics completely alien to us, familiar as we are to our fantastical elfin variant.

The logic further breaks down when we consider the magic slingers of the Burning Legion! So, we must conclude, hand gestures and words, are superfluous, ultimately unnecessary. So what, therefor, is the common element thereof of these three?

The answer is comparatively simple. _The spellcaster._ All magic, must be brought forth into the world by a state of mind. Our silly words and embarrassing hand dances are but routines to which we can concentrate our force of will and bring forth change against the will of the world. It is only now that the archtypcal perceptions of magi begin to make a kind of sense, the hot-head, and passionate, symbolized by fire, of the rapid intake and forcing of the arcane into the ordered existence brought about in the Titans' legacy, contrasting with the cool intellectual, and the calculating mastermind, symbolized by freezing shards of ice, of a slowed intake, forcing the arcane into the ordered world to slowly to take it's proper shape, and it freezes in ice, spread out thinner then it started.

So, what then of the raw arcane? Magic brought forth unaltered, into it's full glory in our feeble orderly existence? Most magi are not eager to excessively bring about such spells, for with each spell cast we must exert ourselves, to say, _We are here, this is our body, our mind, and you will not have it, but instead be brought forth into this world to serve a purpose that we desire._ This is easy to do when we lend the magic our emotions, and make it partially a reflection of ourselves, but to do so against the raw arcane, unfettered by the taming of our minds? To do so is a challenge and draining of our mental reserves.

For what happens when the mage losses the assertion against the Arcane, and is instead consumed by it? It is one of those fates that can only be ascribed as worst then death, for magic, the Arcane is chaos disincarnate, and left to free reign over a body, it will spin and shape and unshape it into every possible possibility as it burns it away. To be certain, a mage's strongest defense is his force of will. Zeth lost his after Noel died, and that is why, as superior as he may have been to me in the Art, he is no longer amongst us.

This is perhaps why the Silver Hand oft dismissed us damned souls, for, all things being equal and allowing us the infinitely extended life granted to us by our spells, it is mere inevitably we shall fall pray to this fate.

That is not to say life as a mage is hopeless, far from it, few live long enough for such a failure of will to be a concern, and there are several tricks, tricks I am now beginning to learn to ward against it.

Which brings us, dear Notebook, for my reason of writing, while I'm still in this heightened state of awareness granted a mage that can achieve a presence of mind. I have been lost. For a long time. Cast adrift like dandelion seed to wander the earth without purpose. For truly, all that I once sought has been lost to me, burned to ashes in the wake of invasion, and what is left to me is nothing, no goal, no allegiance, no friends. It was only the sheerest of accidents that reunited me with my sister, and even then we aren't very close, almost twenty years of separation and completely separate scarrings can do that to siblings. I was left with nothing but a few books and clinging to any crazy idea that struck my head, like a sailor cast adrift in storm, clanging to the overboard barrels, fighting to keep their head above water. In this case the water being the drowning despair of the recent past.

But times have changed, times were tough, they're still tough, but memory has slowly settled, and while it still haunts me everywhere I turn, I can begin to risk to pedal water and try and make it towards shore. Using my altered orb of deception I've finally meet someone I once knew from Dalaran, I never knew Maleren well, even when she was alive, and as a Forsaken she has little recollection of her life. She remembers too poorly, I remember too well, need it be any more blatant? Perhaps if we work at it together, we can each reach a kind of equilibrium, a sort of balance.

It is foolhardy, I know to pin all my hopes and purpose on one thing, one person, perhaps out right stupid to do so, so quickly, but to what else should I pin them? The never ending war against the dead and demons? I can not cling to wreckage of the past forever. I... Well... how to put it...

I'm a very... goal-oriented person, continuing to live is all well and good, but who for? Living for oneself is not a practice I particularly admire. Give me a goal, a reason to get up and deal with the thousand little problems that arise each day, and must in turn be solved!

_I am me. These are my friends, my family, my enemies, my hopes, my fears, my achievements, my shames, and you may not have them; you will be brought forth into this word for the purpose that I have asked, and no more!_

It would appear, in the end, that we are each our own worst enemy, our own shadow and darkside. For where else do ultimately the doubts and failures take root but in our heads when we allow them to? I can not begin to guess where things go from here Maleren, but they will not end in in either chaos or oblivion! We are in an ever transitory state of liminality from the moment of our birth to the moment of our death, constantly seeking a state of balance that is always just out of reach, but now I see the questions of where we go, and where we are, and where we came from, irrelevant! What matters is who we are, and who we are in relation to everything else, and how we react to and act with in respect to everything else. It's not so much a matter of Us and Them, as it is of You and I, if that makes any sense...

But the hour grows late, and while I long for a piece of peace, I think I'll settle for a cupcake -for now- instead.


	13. 2.0 Oh But it Goes So Fast!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This title page originally included a big old landscape screenshot, now lost to time and old file formats]

_Oh! But it goes so fast!_


	14. 2.1 Oh Dear

_Maleren,_

_I feel I owe you some sort of explanation for my sudden disappearance, and likely continuation thereof;_

_The winds are shifting, and I don't mean silly earthen winds, I mean the currents of magic themselves. Can you feel it too? Something's afoot._

_A few weeks ago, I was following up an investigation into a 'Terror of Hillsbrad' all the way out in Ashenvale, and I heard the most unearthly sound, I swear it was unlike anything I've ever heard in all my years. It almost toppled a tree, it was that... booming. And..._

_A trail of fire was arching across the sky. I couldn't see where it ended up, too many trees, but it wasn't long after that rumors started circling amongst the Alliance, of some... some... other worldly race._

_Now, just this Tuesday, emissaries from this enigmatic race have arrived in all three capital cities of the Alliance. They're... rather... er... they look almost like some of the Burning Legion's Warlocks, but they're blue instead of red, and not sucking the souls out a children and puppies. And, get this, they call themselves the Draenei._

_So. Something is afoot, for sure. Demon activity has been on the rise too, I noticed several warlocks having increasing difficulty in maintaining control of their... pets. Had a close call in Stormwind just yesterday in fact, a felguard was running amuck._

_At the moment, I'm gathering supplies for a prolonged expedition into the Black Morass, -the Blasted Lands now. It's the center of demon activity, and there's a lot of background magic there, I hope to single out the direction of the winds by making use of the increased force of the current there._

_I'm worried. Have you noticed anything different on your side?_

_Anything... out of place? At all?_

_In anycase, stay safe, and Light guide your steps._

_-Sincerely,_

_Eskay Vale Diasz, Of Dalaran._


	15. 2.2 Sidetracked

"Oh crap, Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap."

Leaping off one sprawled outcropping of rock, and deftly tripping face first into the ground, thanks to the work of an bone sticking out of the red earthen dust, Eskay rolled to the side, hit the rotting carcass of a basilisk, let out a brief scream, rolled the otherway, sprang upwards, and resumed his madcap dash. Grabbing a startled cultist, Eskay used the orc to swing ninety degrees and continued running, ignoring the startled shouts behind him.

The magi kept up this pace, until finally he reached the guarded entrance of Nethergarde Keep, where he fell, head over heels and rolled into the mailbox. "Owies, pain..." A few of the more concerned Nethergarde gave him a passing glance before resuming their staring into space with the odd pacing around tossed in for variety. A letter, shaken loose, fluttered down and, in defiance of dramatic placement, landed squarely on his eye, with the hard plunk of a solid gold coin. "Hello, -what's this?" Cautiously grabbing the letter with one hand, and pushing himself up with the other, the dust coated spellcaster eyed the parchment critically.

_"This present contains a single gold coin and a wish. The wish is for a happy and peaceful Winter's Veil, which I hope very much comes true for you. The gold coin is for spending. Perhaps on some item you wanted to purchase but were one gold short._

_You don't have to buy me a present in return, in fact you probably shouldn't, as my real name is not actually 'Pennydrop" and you'd confuse the postmaster terribly if you tried to send me mail._

-Pennydrop

(You may or may not know me)

Eskay bit his lip, _Uuuuh... it's Winter's Veil already? Um... well... lessee.. if that was then... and this was now... carry the seven... huh. Er... crap. I forgot all about it..._ The mage shoved the letter into a pocket with increasing panic. _But I don't have time to get people gifts! Not with this.. this... thisnessessnessessness...essness...I gotta get some more proper materials and do a through examination of the whole blasted Blasted Lands!_

 _But I can't just.... -not- do anything for Winter's Veil! Aaaaarg._ Eskay started walking around in circles, if life had taught him anything it was; when in doubt, go in circles.

_Okay... let's just thinkinate logically about this. During Winter's Veil you give people stuff. It's a tradition, and if it was good enough for our great grandparents, it's good enough for us. So.... who should I give presents to? Well, Querida's one. I can't forgetify my own sister, that'd be travesty... but what to get? She likes hats doesn't she? I think I have a hat. I'm pretty sure I have a hat. Plenty of hats._

_Alright, that's great. But who else? Hrm... Clearly the answer to this, to make sure I don't forget anyone, is to list every last person that I can think of and get them something._

_And then I'll need something to wrap the other somethings in... and then... and then..._ The mage wandered off, in a wavering circle, quill and parchment magically in hand, talking to himself enthusiastically.

Sometime later the purple clad magus pranced towards the mailbox, eyed it critically, and proceeded to force a large parade of packages into it's tiny interior. Against all the laws of physics Eskay triumphantly dusted his hands off as the last wrapped gift fell in. "Huzzah! There's that taken care of. For the Alliance at least. Hrm... do the Horde celebrate Winter's Veil, I wonder?" _I should prolly get everyone I can think of on that side something too... just to be safe..._ "Now... what was I doing again?" The mage examined the sky critically when a flash of purple lighting arched across the sky. "Oh... right. That. Crap.”


	16. 2.3 Free Radicals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This originally included screenshots, now lost to time and old file formats]

_Aw mittens with a full sack of kittens..._

The situation was... well... actually, the situation wasn't all the bad. Mind you, it wasn't all that great either, but the sheer lack of soul eating demons raining down upon the world was a definite plus. It was one of those situations that couldn't seem to make up it's mind as to which side of the fence it wanted to flay alive, hovering betwixt and between in yet another state of liminality to add to an already lengthy list, joining a stelwart crew such as: 'What shall Zorkzork have for lunch?'. 'Shaken or stirred sir?', 'Who just one-shotted me?', 'He's got a great personality, but he's fat and I'm hungry...', and closer to our realm of concern; Eskay Diasz's next course of action.

Pausing to stretch his neck, and in attempt to appear throughly occupied so the open mouthed swordsman with a look of constipation off to the right would decide against bothering him, Eskay gazed out over the blasted land of the.... appropriately named, Blasted Lands, his puny human mind swirling in a seasonally correct snowstorm of debate.

In a calculated attempt at coolness, Eskay pulled out his notebook from thin air, whirled around, flipped it open, drawing out his quill from also seemingly thin air, and sat down in one fluid motion. At least, that's what would have happened had his notebook not gone flying out of his hands, smacking a Nethergarde wizard in the back of the neck, slamming the magician out cold. Wincing slightly, Eskay tiptoed to the fallen wizard, grabbed his book, and hurriedly ran back to his spot before anyone noticed. Luckily, no one did. Except for the formally constipated warrior, whom the book had barely missed by a hair's breath. Eskay flipped open his book to the sounds of a startled scream, unique to heavily armed running people misjudging the hight of a cliff, inked his quill in a blatantly non-existant bottle of ink, and began scratching down what can only generously be called words.

_Alrighty-tighty, It would seem that the... uh... 'Dark Portal Jr.' has reactified. However, the uh... portal of dimensional destruction, doom, and dementia, does not seem to be uh... aligninated, for if it were... well... I should think every demon in the Twisting Nether would be pouring through, cutting down the rain forests, burning fossil fuels, and buying stealing expensive horses. Or... wait no. Wrong species._

_But. -Anyway. The point still stands._

_As if to further amalgamate the problem, I was completely correct in my hypothesizing! The Dark Portal is the source of change in winds. Go-go big empty void of penultimate doom. This really doesn't change anything in regards to spell work. Not for minor spells anyway, and I've no interest in doing any major work, like, spellwarding buildings and what-not. S'not my strong suite anyway._

_More pressing that though, are the demons. Those beady eyed little buggers have been crawling over this place ever since they lost the war, and while they've been harassed every now and then they've largely been free to do as they please..._

_And, what is it that they please? Nothing less then our very end! At least trolls eat you afterwards, but Biocide isn't enough for demons, -heck no!- they won't settle for anything less then omnicide!_

_I mean, okay, you're all sad and emotional over how you don't get a neato little world to play mindless peasant on, I get that, and that's a shame, but that doesn't justify seeking to destroy all of freaking creation just because you can't get any! Honestly. If we could all just.. oh... -talk- things out, -instead of cutting things out-, like people's spleens! They need those things man!_

_But. Anyway. Moving on._

_What I'm getting out here notebook is this, we need to mess these demons up something good, a nice Winter's Veil present of foiling their schemes, and I know just the bloody thirsty little tyke too. That dang-blasted Razzilfizzwhatsit the Defiler, he's a hotshot demon, with three grimy little servants, each one carrying a different part of the key to activate the teleport spell to get to him._

_The catch? His little underlings are damn near untouchable. I've managed to get my mitts on a weapon that can imbue them with a felcurse, cut their link to the big man as it were, and make them mortal for bit. Just uh... they're immune to pretty much every spell I through at them._

_This, of course, is bad. And painful. Painfully bad really. Badly painful works too. What this means is that I need to call in the good old... old... um... and that's the problem you see._

_I'm a free agent now, I've got no ties, not to the military, not to any sort of order, hell, I'd be hard pressed to prove I ever so much as stepped anywhere near Dalaran if it came to it, thanks so much burning the city down, Archimonde, records and all, we all really appreciated that._

_But, right moving on._

_What I need to do, is get help. Nonono, not that kind of help, the teamwork, meatshield, healthingymado help. But uh... I can't just go around parading posters for help, that'd be stupid. "Wha's this mista'?" "Oh, nothing, just a plea for help to help stop a group of demons not even all that far away from continuing in their plot to kill us all... just you run along now feller... no need to run that fast.... or scream..." See? See? Light knows the Silver Dragoons have it hard enough, I don't need to instigate a riot for Light's sake._

_So... who ya gonna call? I really don't know of that many organizations that I could mail out a query to and not either get laughed at, or instigate panic, or, tip off the demons themselves. What I oughta do is pick some one I can think of, that I've actually, ya'know.. met, and see if they themselves know of anybody... but I'd best make sure it's someone well connected like, and not, say, living in a box begging for hamburgers._

_Hrm... Pugnose? Not only is he a head-hankiehoncho in regards to the Golden Leaf, a job that must earn him plenty of run-ins with crazy loons... er... interesting people, I think... isn't also in some big topshop position in the Knight's Hopsitalgummy or something? He's bound to know somebody..._

_Hopefully, it's not too much to ask._

 

Nodding in satisfaction, the mage gently tore the page out the notebook, folded it up, addressed it and then, humming a cheery tune, skipped down towards the road proper and meandered into Nethergarde Keep, bee-lining for the post box, pointedly ignoring the nearby mage nursing the large swollen lump on the back of his neck.

"Hey! You!

Eskay spun around on the spot, "Who? Me?! I didn't do anything!"

"...right. Yeah. You're that Eskay person right?" The Quartermaster arced an eyebrow.

Eskay blinked, and tilted his head. "Um... maybe?"

"Right. Well, I've got a... uh... package for a Mr. Eskay Diasz."

"A package? Oh? Well, that's definitely me then." Eskay staggered slightly as the nonplussed Quartermaster dropped a pair of wrapped gifts, an assortment of packaged fireworks and a little note stuck to the string tying it all together. Sitting down with an "Ompf!" the mage inspected the note with interest.

It read:

[Erin circa 2019: This was a screenshot, what did the text say??? I have no idea. :c]

 

"Well. This is random.”


	17. 2.4 Aw Mittens

_To Turrin of the Silver Hand and Pugnose Sharpaxe,_

_Hey, uh... sorry I haven't responded to your letter type things yet._

_It's just that uh... well..._

_You all know of the Dark Portal yes? Well uh... It's like that._

_Only with demons coming out._

_Yeah so...._

_The Burning Legion is... like... back, and we're all like... going to die._

_So..._

_Help? Any? Set up barricades? Arm the Cupcake Catapults?_

_Something?_

_Franticly yours,_

 

-HELP WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE- Eskay Diasz.

Eskay hoped the letter reached them before the demons overwhelmed what paltry defense Nethergarde Keep could muster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guess what day this got written?


	18. 2.5 Daydream

"Right, well, I think that should about cover it, thanks!" Eskay waved to the shopkeep as he stuffed the bag of regents into a much smaller bag, where, in disregard to all common understanding, it fit perfectly. Dusting off his hands, the copper-haired mage strolled out of the shop. Stifling a yawn with one hand and stretching out the other, the human gazed upwards at dusk shrouded sky, already a few of the brighter stars had come out, visible around the curtain clouds that still stretched above.

"Ahem."

Eskay whirled around, and peered at the well-dressed salesman, "Yes? What?"

"You forgot to pay."

"Ah. Yes." Eskay coughed. "Sorry 'bout that."

\----------------

_Oh, wow, the Leaf is crowded...ish tonight, and... oh-hey! Pugnose is here, maybe I can talk to him about the demon stuff in person..._

_Ah, he and Lorith and this other fellow... ette are talking. Hrm... they look worried... and... sound it too... I'll just wait then, don't want to intrude or anything... kinda... tired anyway... I'll just grab this seat here and... rest a bit..._

_I'll just... rest my feet abit 'afore asking what's up... just... for a... mo...ment..._

\----------------

Eskay stared at the chicken.

The chicken stared back, unblinking.

Eskay tilted his head left.

The chicken tilted it's head right.

"Moooooom, the chicken's scaring me again!"

A voice from inside the small ramshackle cabin drifted out; "Don't be silly dear, it's only a chicken. Now get inside and help with the table! And don't forget to bring in the firewood first, while your out there!"

Eskay frowned, "But moooooom!"

"Sovann-Kuval Vale Diasz! Do as your told!"

The child winced, losing the staring contest with the chicken whom victoriously strutted away, peasants normally never had very long names -what's the point?-, but, Eskay had to admit, it sure helped make for some intimidating threats, -although Eskay secretly suspected that both his parents must have been dead drunk when they picked the name. With a sigh of defeat, Eskay stumbled about for the logpile, only to notice out of the corner of his eye...

...The water swirled around in a circle, ripples from nowhere radiating through it, bouncing off each other, growing stronger with each connection. "This, ladies and germs, is pure, concentrated mana, condensed into such a small space to the point of taking shape. We used to have a whole giant lake full of it, longtime ago folks, but then some elves blew it up, which is just as well as now we get an eternal rain of mana falling down on us, permeating everything in the world. You'd do well to remember that kiddies, magic is in everything, the air we breath, the food we eat, our very bodies themselves... In fact..."

"...I'm so totally going to ask her out."

Eskay glanced up from the mountain of parchment he'd been staring at in despair in order to give Zeth a good stare. "Who?"

Zeth waved a hand in the direction of some table on the other side of the room. "That chick... over there... whatshername...?"

Eskay glanced over, "Maleren?"

Zeth shook his head, "Nonono, the other one... er..."

Eskay arched an eyebrow. "Noel?"

"Yeeeeah, that's it."

"You couldn't even remember her name."

"But she's hot."

"She thinks your jerk."

"But she's hot."

"You dropped a rat on her desk the first week of class."

"But she's hot."

"Sigh... fine, it's your funeral." Eskay shook his head as Zeth strutted over to girls' table in a manner he must have thought was 'cool'. The brief exchange between Zeth and Noel, to faraway to be properly heard ended abruptly as Noel tossed a book at Zeth's head. Eskay couldn't help sniggering as Zeth trudged back, defeated. "So how'd it.. heh... go?"

Zeth licked his hand and tried to smooth his ruffled hair back, "I think she likes me."

"You're..."

"...awake?"

Eskay blinked.

"Hey? You awake sir?"

Eskay pushed his face off the table, blinking.

"It's way past closing sir, looks like you dozed off."

"Oh... um... so I have."

"...you alright?"

Eskay rubbed at an eye sleepily and pushed himself up from the chair, and nodded at the barmaid. "I'm fine I think... thanks."

The girl nodded and turned back to cleaning off the tables. Eskay wandered outside and stared skywards, the stars out in full now. _So much for talking to Pugnose, oh well... it was a nice dream…_


	19. 2.6 Counterstrike

"This is ridiculous! Tis madness! And... and... ACK!" Eskay dived to the ground and rolled out the way as a blood-soaked axe cam rushing down, biting into the dead red earth the mage had been crouching over moments before. Pulling out the excessive latent magics polluting the air around the Dark Portal with a sulfurous tinge tossed a trio of arcane bolts with his right hand at the furious form of the felguard trying to uproot it's axe. As the magic cackled through the air, Eskay quickly conjured up a second trio and flung it into the air with an overly elaborate slash of his other hand. By that time the demon had attracted the attention of a handful of the defenders of the Argent Dawn and was quickly felled before their combined blades. Grasping on his Ogre Magi rod for support, Eskay panted heavily as the fighting died down.

For now anyway.

Ever since demons hard started to pour through the now truly reactivated portal, all Eskay had chance to do was fight, with nary a moment to sleep, with eating reserved for those brief moments of respite between waves. To stop for rest would be unthinkable, the demons could not be allowed to secure a single point in Azeroth, and that could only be prevented by continuing the fight at every waking moment.

The call for help had at first been answered by an overwhelming number of defenders of both the Horde and Alliance but as the battle had worn on the defender's number had dropped from a combination of casualties, deserters, and terrorists seeking to disrupt the unity between the two factions of Azeroth. Now only a handful remained on site with the Argent Dawn at any given time and the demons were now slowly winning, paying for each inch of land with dozens of lives until now were the defenders had been beaten back to the very base of the camp.

Felfire rained from the sky calling out burning hounds that disrupted the lines from behind, Eskay let out a deep sigh and turned around, picking off targets and slowly taunting the burning beasts away and off a wounded priest. Letting loose a blast of cold wind, Eskay froze the demons' feet for a brief second before their fiery bodies freed them. Frowning, the magi prepared a second spell when a Night elf charged at the mass and began hacking away at them. Stunned and scrambling to pick a different spell, Eskay back up and then called down a wave of ice to finish the work the elf had started.

"Thanks."

"Ah-heh. No problem."

The two turned to look at the portal as a thunderous cry rolled out and a winged purple demon clad in armor, a dreadlord rumbled down the steps, calling down a pair of burning infernals down on the exhusted defenders.

"Well crap."

"We need to go after their command. Cut the head off the snake."

Eskay snorted. "And how do suppose to do that? Their command is on the other side of that damn portal."

The Night Elf flashed a toothy grin. "Not all of them. Ever heard of Razelikh the Defiler?"

Eskay raised a hand, then promptly dropped it. "I... er... heard of him? Bwuh? I've worked overtime getting a weapon that can hurt him."

"Good. It's settled then?"

"Huh? What? What's settled?"

"We'll go kill him."

Eskay stared at the armor-clad elf, the raging battle around him all but forgotten. "Just the two of us? Excuse me, are you insane?"

"Not just us. I know some people, and they know some people. If we work fast we can get him now, while he's focused elsewhere."

"So... you're proposing some-sort of.. counter-strike... on a neigh invincible demon in the middle of a demonic invasion?"

"Exactly."

Eskay sighed, mulling it over. "Okay. fine. You get these 'people' of yours. I'll ride back to Nethergaurde and pick up supplies. Meet at the Rise?"

“Meet at the Rise.”


	20. 2.7 Fall of the Defiler

"Alright then. Who are we still waiting for?" Eskay looked about at his three companions, the sturdy Night Elf warrior, Morathius shrugged.

"Hemdall should be here soon."

Eskay frowned and scratched his head. "Hemdall? I... think I've meet him before..." Morathius grimaced slightly.

_"Here you go Hemdall, this should be enough water to last us though Stratholme!" The dark clad dwarf frowned at the offered bottles of water. "Hmph. Demon water."_

Eskay nodded and grinned slightly, "He seemed like a nice fellow." This remark earned him a few strange looks between the other three, the white clad priest, Xlana, shrugged at the Night elf rouge, Aeivisa. Morathius sighed and glanced upwards at the towering pillar of rock. The Rise of the Defiler, Razelikh awaited on top, certainly plotting something sinister and nefarious, or lacking that, doing something sinister and nefarious. Or... or... multitasking and attempting both. At the same time. You can never tell with demons. Eskay mentally reviewed the plan of attack in his head as they continued to wait;

_Okay... so... Morathius knocks on the big shiney doorbell thingy once we're uptop and ready... yes? Yesyes. Then..._

_Oh! I use the Azsharite staff and make sure to keep Rakh'likh weakened. Then we all continue to... what was it? Oh. Yes._

_"Blast 'im, beat 'im, burn 'im, eat 'im."_

_I don't think the last one was literal though... I hope not. Ick._

There was a sound like a shifting rockpile, Morathius had shifted position to stare at the horizon. "Ah. There he is." A dot on the horizon grew steadily bigger, and the clear visage of a stout dwarf with a scowl on his face came into focus. "I'm glad you could make it Hemdall."

"Hmph."

"Well then. Since we're all here now... are we ready?"

"About time."

"Yeah."

"Hmph."

Eskay blinked, snapping out of his mental checklist, he had just gotten to the groceries too, could do with buying another head of lettuce. "Fetta cheese-wha?"

"...are you ready?"

"Ready? What?" Eskay glanced up. "Oh. Um. Yeah. Uh... sure. Sure. Totally."

"...right. Just... don't mess up."

Eskay blinked, and tilted his head. "Well. Of course. That would be _bad_..."

Morathius sighed, and raised the small amulet in his hand above him. The amulet glowed briefly and the world wrenched away from them. It was rather like being squeezed through a tiny straw while being a mountain giant, Eskay managed to think in the brief moment the spell lasted, for just as suddenly as the world had been wrenched away, it abruptly slammed into them with all the force of happy, overly large canine. The top of the rise was surprisingly small, in front of the group a complex pattern was inscribed in the rock and almost covered in petrified bodies. To the side a brilliant blue orb hung, as if asking, no, pleading to be touched. Eskay, half dazed, complied.

An unearthly noise shattered the air and in burst of arcane energy Rakh'likh the Defiler, coalesced before them. The dreadlord loomed over them and immediately lunged towards the barely recovered group. Morathius dove underneath and fought off the demon's claws with sword and shield. "ALL RIGHT. WHO TOUCHED THE DAMN ORB BEFORE I GAVE THE ORDER?!"

Eskay hastily scrambled upright and away from the orb and readied his Azsharite staff. "It wasn't me! I swear!"

Aeivisa and Hemdall had already started their respective attacks, with Xlana hanging well behind, steadily shaping and channelling the Light to renew them before Eskay managed to collect his wits enough to do his job. Channelling the latent energy in the staff, the mage thrusted it towards the sky. "You are Rakh'likh, Demon!" As dramatic moments go, this would have been a fairly good one, the mage even escaped the bolt of lightening that was going to hit him, but decided to fry some random troll that had been passing below. However this moment's dramatic status lacked one key detail. Maybe you can figure it out;

The Dreadlord's expression had changed to surprise as it began to shrink in size slightly. The Dreadlord's expression changed to mirth as the shrinking stopped. You could barely tell the difference.

Aeivisa nicked at the demon's wings, frowning. "That's it? No explosions? No smiting by Elune? Just tiny downsizement?"

Eskay scratched his head. "I... uh.. guess so."

Further conversation was cut off as Rakh'likh summoned forth a deathnight with an angry cry.

"Well. This can't get any worse, can it?"

A bolt of thunder later, a giant felgaurd began swinging it's blade at Xlana.

"Eskay?"

"Yes Morathius?"

"Stop talking."

Eskay sighed and closed his eyes, focusing and began drawing out and shaping mana, and with a complex series of syllables preceded to finally join the fight. ("About time you helped!" Xlana muttered, ducking a very nasty looking axe.)

Slowly the felgaurd was beaten back, then slain with a blast of light, the deathknight was struck down in a blaze of fire and knifework, and finally only the wretched Rakh'likh was still standing. Well most of him. A wing had fallen off along the way, but what's a wing between mortal enemies? It was clear the demon wasn't going to remain standing much longer, they had held up well thanks to the healing efforts of Xlana and Hemdall, and now the five of them pressed their advantage, striving to be the one to get in the final blow. With an uprising of his hands, Eskay brought forth a pillar of fire, shooting up underneath the demon, Aeivisa's hands blurred as she struck through the demon's hard skin, Xlana called down a bolt of holy fire while Hemdall struck with a seals and judgments. Morathius's blade left a 'vring' noise in the air as it sung. Between them all, no amount of slow motion capture would be certain enough to decide what finally did it, but the important bit was that the demon fell, burst into a flock of bats, scattered to the far reaches of the Blasted Lands.

Rather, it was a bit surprising no one accidentally cut someone else open in the confusion afterwards. Hemdall shouted victory and muttered prayers, Xlana promptly ran off. levitating down the cliff face after a round of congratulations, Morathius nodded his thanks before climbing down, and Aeivisa... had vanished into thin air. No one seemed to have an interest in sticking around with each other. Eskay couldn't fathom why.

Eskay slowly stumbled down the cliff, picking his way carefully. You could never expect to climb to the top, but as with all things, going down is always possible, even if 'up' isn't. Well. We beat him, we cheer, congratulate ourselves, and them promptly disperse.... how.... anti-climatic.

Eskay sighed. _Well. The important bit is that we smashed in the face of a great evil... thingy... Now if we could just stop the flow of demons though the portal and all would be... almost well. Well... more well then how well things are, well, now._ Frowning Eskay hopped down the last bit of vertical cliff, wincing at the impact, and stumbled off towards Nethergaurde. The mage could probably guilt someone into letting him stay the night there, and finally get a full night's sleep. A fitting reward for a fitting victory.

 


	21. 2.8 Be Prepared

I've missed it! Day in and out, through the night and into the twilight, standing guard fighting off any demon what went and poked his chubby skull through that blasted portal, and I take one day, one day to rest and what happens? We push them back! We finally overwhelm the good for nothing two bit face eaters and secure the otherside of the portal, and I'm asleep! Aaaaarg. This. Makes. Me. Angry. Arg! I've heard talk of people pouring, pouring through that portal to see what's on the other side, to fight demons, and so on and so forth, but do we even know if it's livable?

Well. Er. The fact that no one has reported screaming an agony just from being there might be a hint but... uh... it doesn't make any sense!

...what do you mean, 'What am I talking about?' Outland, Dreanor, it's the blasted up carcass of dead world, left completely exposed to the unceasing winds of the Twisting Nether! It should be completely unlivable, there shouldn't be an atmosphere, there shouldn't even be any gravity for Light's sake, and the constant soup of mana that place must be bathed in.... the sheer magic radiation must be unbelievable! Prolonged exposure could result in terrible deformities along with massive fluctuations in the stability of that area's reality. The reports of a breathable atmosphere, Azeroth-like gravity, and a complete lack of people turning inside out or growing a sixth head flies in the face of all common sense! It's a complete anomaly! The only possible way this Outland could exist as it does is through some kind of... full scale intervention by something immensely powerful. The only thing I can think of is a titan... is there a Titan in Outland? But why? It makes no sense!

I must go though the portal and see this 'Outland' for myself, study onsite and what not. -And then there's also the matter of demons! They've obviously entrenched themselves quite heavily in Outland to have mounted the invasion they did. Although they never sent through any Doomguards or Eredar which is... odd, but anyway,

I've heard the reports from Stormwind, attacks by some super-demon Kruul whatsit, upwards of hundreds of casualties, and that's just bodies they could find. Rumor says the delightful bugger visited the Horde as well.

...If the demons have entrenched themselves in Outland, then we have to... we must push them off, and then pursue them, and not rest until every last one is dead, until they can never, ever, do this again. This is the third time they've tried directly to invade our world and this must be the last time!

They aren't going to go for treaties or agreements so we have only one option: We must be the shield to break their wicked burning crusade! We must combat these demons to the ends of all creation until nothing is left but a terribly ugly and terribly broken skull nailed to our collective fence post! Yeah!

We've shattered the Scourge control, and every day we reduce their numbers more and more. If we can turn back and emerge victorious against the endless march of the undead, then surely, surely we can put an end to this legion of evil as well? I have to find out. I have to go. I have to-

But first... I must be prepared. I'll need warding spells, food, water, reagents, ink, paper, ...some kind of tent thingy, and... and... other stuff I haven't thought of yet!


	22. 2.9 Marching Through The Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This originally included screenshots, now lost to time and old file formats]

If Eskay was going to step out into an alien world to combat evil then certain preparations were going to have to be made...

 

Eskay punched the air as the Ziggurat exploded into a pillar of flame, joining seven other columns of smoke towering out over the plaugewood. "Aaaah-hahaha! TAKE THAT YA ROTTEN BONE HUGGERS! OH YEAH! I AM INVIIIINCIBAh... INVINCABIBA.... UNSTOPPABLE! PATHETIC SCOURGE-!" Eskay paused to take a breath. "-THAT"S RIGHT! COWER! COWER BEFORE MY AWESOMENESS!" A pair of ghouls wondering nearby rushed Eskay, attracted by the noise and knocked the distracted magi facedown from their overeager attack. Rolling sideways the mage blasted ice towards the ground, freezing the ghouls' feet. "Oh? What's that? Thought you could TAKE ME ON HUH? WEEEELL... LET ME TELL YOU, YOU'VE GOT ANOTHE...r... thing... coming..." Out of the burning Ziggurat a large, shambling ghoul know as a ziggurat protector staggered out covered in flames as if it had crawled straight from the depths of hell. "Oh... bugger."

The protector let louse a mournful cry and staggered towards Eskay. "Er... uh... say... can we... talk this out maybe?"

The protector lurched closer.

"Right... um... Yeah... I've... LOOK OVER THERE! THERE'S A... A.... Um... A... GREAT BIG.... thing... that... undead... like... like.... alot." The protector glanced behind him. By the time it had turned back towards Eskay, the mage was gone.

\------

 

"Five-hundred-twenty, Five-hundred-thirty, Five-hundred-thirty-five, Five-hundred-thirty-eight, Five-hundred-thirty-nine-and-a-half, Five-hundred-thirty-nine-and-three-quarters, Five-hundred-forty! There you go sir, Five-hundred-"

"For Light's sake, just hand it over already." The Stablehand had not had a good day. First three different people had come by begging him, and then threatening him to let them have a horse, and now this.. this... stooge had come up and had to count out every last coin by hand. He bitterly snatched the bulging handbag of gold coins out of the slightly offended mage's hands and hooked it to his belt. "Alright now. I'ma gonna teach ye the 'seekrit' of riding epic mounts ye hear? Now... I'm only going to say this once... so... listen closely..."

Eskay blinked, eager-faced and rapidly bending far too close towards the old man for comfort. "Yes?! Yes?! What's the secret?!"

"The secret is..."

"Yes?!"

"Ye hold on reeel tight."

Eskay drew back and stared.

"Ye-ep."

"That's it?"

"That's it." The trainer chewed the strand of dryed grass sticking out from his teeth for a moment, and looked at the drooping mage with a self-satisfied grin. _Eh-eh-eh. Gets them every-time._

\------

 

"Aieeeeeee! GET ME OFF OF THIS THING! AAAAAAAAAACK!" Eskay flailed wildly about as the purple-eyed armored horse that the stablehand had lovely named, 'Yew Bast'terd' reared up on it's hind legs. With a sign hung around his neck that had read, "Salee!!! 5o% offe!!!" Eskay should had been slightly supicious. Alas, they had been very adamant about their No Returns policy once the mage had handed over the money.

The horse let out a whinny more at home amongst thunderstorms and leapt forward, out of the stable pen and into the forest; it's frantic rider clinging on with the fear of death. Yew Bast'terd raced through the forest, crushing the flora underneath it's hooves and trampling a murloc or two that didn't dive out of the way in time. Gritting his teeth, Eskay clung on like a persistent head louse and slowly pulled himself into a proper riding position. "Al-ow-ri-ow-ght you-ow... I'ma-ow, gonna-ow teach-ow you-ow some-ow man-ow-ners-ow." Eskay's eyes glowed softly as the mage drew in extra power. Technically this is cheating a bit, but playing fair is hardly a concern when precious organs are at stake. Grabbing hold of the reigns, the mage forcfully pulled them up, trying to get the horse to stop. Yew Bast'terd whinnied angrily and come to a sudden stop, shooting up a cloud of dirt with it's hooves. Eskay continued moving and flew striaght out of his seat and slammed into a tree, and with a painful 'slomph' noise, slid down to the ground. "Ow. Pain. Agony."

The horse stomped over and peered down into Eskay's face. "Oh. You. Now what?" Yew Bast'terd licked the agonized mage's face, possibly hoping for blood. "Ack!"

\------

 

"Ah. Um. 'scuse me sirrah, Er.... please get your chest out of my face... that's better, um... ack! No! Tail! Bad! Ow!" Eskay hopped about, trying to avoid being run over by the swarming crowd of various er... 'people' that frolicked in and out of the Auction House, placing bids and setting up auctions, all with complete disregard towards not running a certain mage over. Having still had a decent amount of gold left Eskay had figured that picking up a few items that had been taken back from the Outlands would be good preparation, having an array of strong magically enchanted gear could come in handy should anyone want to say... rip his face off. This still didn't explain why such a strong market in magic pants, but the red-haired magi thought it best not to ask.

With great care the mage placed his last bid and sneaked his way out of the Auction House, trying to avoid any further injuries for the day. Letting a little 'hurrah' out as he made it to the mailbox without incident, Eskay hurridly began sorting though his packages and stashing away new trinkets into the ever convenient 'thin-air'. Dusting off his hands with the pride of job well bought, Eskay blinked in surprise as one of newcomers to town, a large blue alien -Dreanei- jumped on the mailbox and started dancing. An errant hoof promptly kicked the mage in the head.

\------

Tenderly touching the large bandage swathed across his forehead, and bracing his still aching back, Eskay glanced one last time at the Valley of Heroes. _That's it! I've had it! I'm leaving and I'm not coming back! For a while anyway! I've got better things to do! Like.. Like... Save the world! And.. and... stuff. Yeah! Stuff! What-now?!_ Sticking his tongue out, Eskay froze as a guard walked by. Relaxing as he realized nothing was going to happen to him, the mage slowly turned around, and using his staff as a walking cane, made his exodus from Stormwind.

_Okay. I've got food, I've got water, I've got extra runecloth for repairs, I've got extra regents, I've got 'Yew" (a whole siege weapon in and of itself), I've got two changes of clothing and fancy new fighting gear, I.... think I'm ready._

_Just one more thing to do..._

_I've checked back as Yakse a couple of times and no reply to either my letter or my gift, so.... I might as try and track 'er down and talk to her in person. Tis not fair to run off and not say anything. That's rude. But... where does she stay anyway?_

_Hrm... If I was a Maleren... where would I hide?_

Lost in thought, the heavily bandaged mage failed to notice the pothole in the road until he was halfway towards the ground.


	23. 2.10 Viriditas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This originally included screenshots, now lost to time and old file formats]

_I finally met up with Maleren again! I've spent all this time searching only to accidently bump into her once again at the Brill Trade Market. Figures. But I'm just glad she's alright, I was worried... what with talk of some of the capital cities being hit by demons... but no, she's fine! Perfectly fine. The only worry I have is over that Voidwalker of hers, 'Chuckles'... which in and of itself is the oddest name I've ever heard, but the blueberry was really acting up today. Once we started a-working in Stonetalon, fighting back harpies and planting trees, he was alright; but before that... what with the looming and the staring... I know Maleren likes the thing or something, but it's seriously creeping me out man._

_Still, as long as Maleren is okay..._

_No, the only really worry I guess I have is to do with myself, Maleren asked me what's it like on the other side of the Dark Portal, in Outland, but... I haven't been there yet? Have I? I... remember telling her about it but it doesn't feel like -I- was the one telling her about it, and I've got... memories... no, more like dream memories of it... but I swear I haven't been there yet, I mean... I promised to meself, to first clear everything up before going through there, and part of that was finding and talking with Maleren again... When I switch off this 'Yakse' guise for the night I'll have to grab the entirety of my notes and go through them, doing something then being certain you didn't do it is not exactly a sign of sanity, you know? All I need to do is make sure I've not been to Outland yet and I can dismiss these... half-memories as just some kind of magical side effect._

Which is all too likely to be honest with you notebook, I mean, the amount of mana I have to bring to bare to maintain this illusion under all the various potential circumstances it's a wonder I've not suffered some sort of backlash really, the basis of the spell is still within that old orb of deception but I've long since drained that thing dry of it's latent mana, it's entirely fueled by my own efforts now.

The spell's no cakewalk either, it's pretty much calling into existence a golem, but not giving it a framework to permanently imbed itself on, and consistently switching it on and off as needed which has to be strain on the local area's reality index, and making it manually operated to boot. I'm still amazed it held up under all the little costume spells Maleren was putting on me. Why she's still carrying around those costume wands I'm not sure, but it was kinda neat to running around as different things... I don't think all the harpies we were clearing out of the Charred Vale appreciated it as much, but too bad for them, right? With a bit of work here, and a lot of planting there, I think the Charred Vale will be green again, soon enough. It won't be easy though, with the harpies and the corrupted ancients and the angered fire spirit... things. But it can be done. We can bring life back to the place. Outland is like the Charred Vale, weakened and beaten, but with a bit of work, we can make it alive again.

And look, there I go again, how do I know that? I haven't been there yet, so I can't state that for sure. I think... the answer to all the problems will show itself to me if... I.... take a nap. Yes. Or... better yet, just go to sleep for the whole night, that'd be even better, a little sleep to ease out all the kinks put in my mind by a day's travels would do me some good. Totally. Me? I'm not putting things off. Nope. Perish the thought


	24. 2.11 Mind Becomes Confused

_I've been having the strangest dreams lately._

_Well, no... that's uh, not entirely accurate, they're not dreams... I don't think.. but he whole...._

_Ugh, let me start from the beginning, yeah?_

_I stopped in Nethergarde, see, for a quick break after having spent the day being BRUTALLY MURDERED by a rather painful series of events involving dancing aliens, crazy horses, and stupid potholes, and what do I get upon stopping by, not so much as thankful smile for having helped pull their butts out of the fire during the invasion, noooo, they say, "You! Go to the Dark Portal camp, the commander's got a task for you." Humph!_

_So, what does the commander want? Oh, nothing major, just wants me to GO THROUGH THE PORTAL to deliver a letter, THAT HE COULD JUST HAVE QUICKLY SENT THROUGH THE BLASTED MAIL. Oh, and I HAVE TO DO IT RIGHT NOW GOGOGO 'pushshovepush'_

_Now, I thought, fine since I'm a fine, upstanding and caring, and courteous member of the Alliance, UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE, I bravely risk death by stepping through the portal and into the MAGICALLY UNSTABLE crumb of a broken world we humorlessly call 'Outland'. I go and deliver the letter, as I promised, and then make to git, cause, I like, have this self resolution to go talk to Maleren again 'afore I go and get myself lost, right? Yeah, well, that commander grabs me by the cloak and shoves me on a gryphon, saying, "Durhurhur, your drafted meboy, go help the chums at Honor Hold what-what."_

_And you know how it goes Notebook, one thing leads to another and the next thing I know, I'm WORKING FOR A RACE OF INTELLIGENT FUNGUS PEOPLE in their FIGHT AGAINST ALMOST-AS-INTELLIGENT PLANT PEOPLE._

_YE GODS! Outland has no sanity I tell you!_

_At least I've got all my stuff now, I can properly complain about these things in written format! ...as opposed to... just... complaining.... aloud..._

_Right. Moving on._

_What was I talking about? Oh! The dream thingies._

_Right, well, look, it's like this..._

A large hole in the page blocks out the majority of the next paragraph, the edges of the hole are seared black, as if whatever passed through was large and probably on fire.

_...and that's what I think is going on there. Needless to say notebook, I'd best keep an eye on this, how I'm going to do that... I don't know. But... uh.. Yeah. As long as no one else notices anything of course, I can likely get away with... uh... completely ignoring it, for awhile at least. I mean, what else can you do about something like that? What that be like, counted as murder, or qualify as suicide? Hrm... interesting moral dilemma, that._

_And you know how much I hate moral dilemmas, dangit notebook, I'm a mage, not a priest! I don't need pesky things like that flying in my face._

_Things are so much simpler when they're simple._

Note to Self: Light sources are best placed to the side of a book, not directly above.


	25. 2.12.0 Murder In The Thicket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This title page originally included a big old landscape screenshot, now lost to time and old file formats]

Murder in the Thicket


	26. 2.12.1 A Walk In The Woods

Tentatively easing the covers of the notebook shut, un-eager to risk anymore... ahem, accidents with... certain light fixtures, Eskay Diasz breathed a sigh of relief as the world failed to provide some other potential risk to the integrity of his notebook. The challenge over, the copper haired mage quickly tossed the book into a convenient batch of thin air where it promptly vanished, safely tucked in whatever nether-pocket it may or may not have landed in. Dusting off his hands, Eskay pondered whether to have a boiled mushroom for breakfast, or a baked one, and then, further, whether or not it mattered as it came out tasting like a musty eraser either way.

Ah, the joys of foreign cooking.

 

Since having been handed over to be the errand boy of the Cenarion Refuge from Honor Hold, the quality of food had quickly degraded from a rich variety of foods and drinks; month old hardtack to week old hardtack with your choice of 'recycled' water to 'purified' water for example, to a monotonous serving of mushroom soup, mushroom ale, mushroom bread, boiled mushroom, mushroom ala mushroom, oh, and the Refuge favorite (highly recommended) fresh picked mushroom with a garnishing of... steamed mushroom. There were even some special colored mushrooms kept in the back of the culinary closet, but when Eskay had managed to sneak one he was surprised to find it did absolutely nothing except taste like mushroom. Oh, and earn him a reprimand and another day spent out gathering, you guessed it, mushrooms.

 

So, when Lethyn Moonfire one of the Expedition's stiff-necked mushroom lovers slowly loomed his way over to Eskay, the mage dropped his staff on his foot in a panicked haste to stand up (no slouching magic sucker!) and to look very, very, very busy. This tactic, of course, failed, and Eskay found himself with a large sickly purple elf breathing down his neck. Well, more like his head, having over a foot in height difference can do that.

 

Eskay winced, "Yeeees...?"

 

"I have urgent business for you. We haven't heard from the druids of the Cenarion Thicket in quite some time. This is unusual as we usually hear from them at least once every few days." Eskay sighed and turned around, "Fine. And this... Thicket thingy place is... where?"

 

"There are several ways to get there, but the fastest is to head south along the path, and then take the road that branches east from Shattrath City once you're in the forest." Eskay could have sworn the mushroom hugging Expeditionist had been practicing that little blurb all day as the Elf slunk back to his normal spot where he spent his days standing and staring into space or whatever happened to get in the way. Still, Cenarion Thicket sounded, not only far away from here, but decidedly lacking in mushrooms.

 

So, after downing a less then interesting meal of boiled mushroom in mushroom juice soup, Eskay hurried out of the Cenarion Refuge before some other hippy druid could assail him with some request to go "kill lots of so and so in the name of preserving bio-diversity". His horse waited outside, firmly tied (several times in fact) to a rather large mushroom stalk. Bopping the creature on the head to make it clear that the mage wouldn't stand for any funny business today, Eskay climbed on, burned the rope holding 'Yew' to the Mushroom and desperately clung on as the horse took off, trying every now and then to steer the thing in the right direction.

 

It wouldn't be for sometime (and a hilarious yet terrifying near run over of large tauren with a veritable weather system on his shoulders) later that the stalks of the mushroom forest began to thin and the hereto never before seen strands of green alien grass and tall trees in alien shapes with foreign leaves that Eskay realized that he had left the swampy tracks of Zangarmarsh. Pulling hard on the reigns, Eskay dug in with the sides of his heels as 'Yew' came to a sudden stop. "Hah! Thought I'd go flying, huh ya bugger? Well, not me! Fool me once shame on you! Fool me twice, shame on m-" 'Yew' bucked violently and Eskay was sent hurtling face first into a large bush.

 

Sputtering leaves and picking twigs out his hair, Eskay drug himself out of the thicket onto the main road to find his horse running off into the distance. "Wa-hey! Come back here! Curse you! Er.. er... may your... er.... tail have fleas! Yeah! Nasty alien fleas ya soggy rot carcass! Who needs you?!" Droppings his arms to the side, Eskay sighed and trudged down the road, spying a large caravan parked in the distance.

 

The caravan turned out to be of Orcish design but the large tauren standing dumbstruck infront of it was decidedly a member of the Cenarion Expedition. Eskay wasn't quite sure how he knew this, but the fact the overgrown cow failed to smash his face in on sight might have been a hint. "Ah! Are you, uh, one of the, uh, druidy types of the Cenarion Thicket? I've... er..." Eskay coughed, "...been sent to check out what's up, what with the uh... lack of the talky-talky and letters... and... stuff."

 

The tauran perked up slighty, sizing the mage up, "I'm glad that the refuge sent you. The druids of the thicket have been slain! Only myself and one other have survived, and he's insane. I don't know what happened, but I intend to get to the bottom of it. Whatever it was, it happened quickly and feels unnatural. Will you help me?"

 

Eskay blinked and tilted his head to the side, "Woah, woah, woah, back up there, the druids have been slain? As in, dead? As in, cut down like plate of mushrooms placed in front of Leythn?"

The tauren frowned and gestured toward the collection of Night elf architecture , "See for yourself. I have no idea what killed all of the druids here. I've been away for a couple of days on a survey of the Bone Wastes to the south. Please, you must help me to uncover what's behind this horrible tragedy. Go into the thicket and look for a clue that might reveal something to us. When I was in there briefly, I could have sworn I saw a dead Broken and a strange object next to him. "

Eskay scratched his head, "What is this, a mystery novel?"

 

"And don't worry about Treelos - he might have been driven insane by what happened, but I think he's mostly harmless."

 

"Oh, only mostly harmless? That all?"

The tauren coughed and started making 'shoo'ing motions with his hands. Eskay shrugged and turned to face the building, "Right. Here we go then."

"Oh! One more thing!"

Eskay froze in midstep and pivoted around. "Whatwhatwhat?!"

"Something strange has changed the teromoths of the thicket. Where once there was a diversity of life in there, now only the teromoths remain. And while before they were at peace, now they are agitated and will not hesitate to attack you should you get close. I need to compare the vicious ones to the normal. Collect for me a number of samples from both. You'll find the unaffected teromoths both to the south and the north. I'm certain this is related to whatever killed all of the druids."

Eskay blinked, "So... you want me to rip the wings off of butterflies?"

"Teromoths."

"Right, butterflies. I'll... keep that in mind." Turning around again, Eskay set off, into the Cenarion Thicket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 note: Okay, if so this was labeled in my files as 12-0, 12-1, 12-3, 12-4, 12-5. Is there a 12-2? What was it? God if I know.]


	27. 2.12.3 Someone Set Us Up The Bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 note: Okay, if so this was labeled in my files as 12-0, 12-1, 12-3, 12-4, 12-5. Is there a 12-2? What was it? God if I know.]
> 
> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This originally included screenshots, now lost to time and old file formats]

It's interesting, Eskay reflected, how quickly a place can change from mildly inviting to disturbingly sinister with but a few short steps. The mage had barely set foot pass the wallless gateway that marked the entrance to the Cenarion Thicket when an eerie blue haze settled into his vision. Eskay was in no regards an expert on such manners, (albeit, he know more then most) but the whole place seemed to simply reek of mana. The air was heavy with it, almost stifling, and what ever pleasant forest smells might have been present were completely obscured by the overwhelming stench of sulfur.

The copper haired mage barely had time to gather his thoughts before the first hint that something was wrong almost tripped him over.

 

 

 

Trying to act as if he had not almost accidently tripped over a rotting corpse, Eskay gave the tauren's body a passing inspection, frowning with disappointment that the body too seemed to be radiating an unusual amount of mana. "Right then.... uh.... rest in peace there buddy... don't like... rise up and eat me or anything? 'kay? 'kay."

Beating off a few vicious terromoths that wandered to close for comfort Eskay slowly circled around the grounds of the building, checking for anything supicou-

**"LIGHTS! THERE ARE FOUUUR LIGHTS!"**

"OH YE GODS!" Eskay whirled around, staff at the ready, only to be greeting with the crazed grin of a Night Elf whom obviously thought himself to cool for a proper shirt but at least had the decency to wear pants... well, a kilt, but that's all details. "Oh... it's... er... Warden Treelos I presumify?" Eskay tried very hard, and without much success, to look like he had not been about to smash the elf over the head.

"Quick, hide! The eyes of Naphthal'ar are upon you... upon us all!" Treelos's eyes shifted from one shadowy corner to another, as if searching for something. "I dare not go to the top of the tower to speak with it, but you... you look as if you might know the right words to say. Just be careful, it doesn't like jokes and will not suffer fools easily." The elf suddenly dived to the side and hurriedly placed a small pebble over his head, as if to hide himself. "If you can, convince it to come down for tea. But, by all means, get it to stop staring at me!" His piece finished, the druid rolled, transformed into a bear, and hurried away.

Eskay stared awkwardly, "Um. Okay. Right then. Because that was totally sane and everything..." Giving the retreating figure of Treelos a parting glance, Eskay sized up the tower that the warden must have been talking about, what with it being the only tower around and everything. "Well. It doesn't look like the nesting house of sinister evil..."

The inside of the tower itself was covered in the crazed Teromoths, and Eskay soon had more then enough wings, er... samples, to satisfy the first druid's curiosity. Climbing his way up the tower through the blue haze, Eskay cautiously poked his head up to survey the top of the tower as the ceiling opened up.

Waiting to greet him, a very large and ugly terromoth dived down at him, almost knocking the mage off the stairs. "Ack! Crap! Stay back! Back!" With a shrill cry the tormented creature latched on, trying to hug the mage to death. Stumbling, the mage flailed wildly, trying to shake the creature off, and blinded by the overgrown moth's mandibles, the mage failed to notice the railing and promptly tipped over. "Ack! No! Bad ground! Come bac-"

Ka-crunch.

"Pain."

The giant terromoth seemed to have broken Eskay's fall, but in doing so had received the brunt of the impact, crushing it's exoskeleton. Pulling himself out of growing pool of bug ichor, Eskay sputtered and gazed helpless at his robes, this was definitely going to stain.

"It's for the best, really. If it cannot civilly accept an invitation then it has no business attending."

Eskay whirled around in a panic, only to be greeted by Treelos's grin. "Oh, it's just... you." The Warden blinked, a look of confusion covering his beaten features, and then one of sudden alarm, "Who are you and what are you doing here? You must get out of here quickly before it is too late!" Waving his arms in the air, the elf ran off, screaming warnings. Eskay raised a hand to say something, and then thought better of it, letting his arm drop to his side. The sooner he was out of here, the better.

With only one last place left in the Light forsaken Thicket to search, Eskay warily made his way towards the main building, growing unease gnawing at his nerves. -Oh, and there was the aching back pain from the fall too.-

What greeted his eyes upon reaching the main building however, pulled his knees out from under him.


	28. 2.12.4 Stirred

_"Alright folks, we have to keep moving if we're to get out of here in one piece -and- alive, so I want anyone unable to fight to stick in the center of the group. Got that..." The silver armored paladin broke off his speech as a shard of rock burning with green demonic flames slammed into the ruined wall that had been providing the refugee group cover. "Okay, we've got company people, just stay calm, don't panic, and get going, fall in line like I asked you too. Sam, Ron, Watch the flanks. Dan you've got lead."_

 

_The earth shook as the burning boulder crashed into the ground, the wall groaning as it slowly lost it's structure. "Pat, you're the caboose, don't let anyone get left behind." The paladin kept his eye on the boulder as it slowly unfolded itself and rose towards it's full height. Readying the heavy battle-hammer in his hands, he pulled the visor of his helmet down and muttered a prayer._

 

_The refugee group slowly began it's march into the wilds of Silverpine, fearful at first, then breaking into a heavy jog at the sounds of the final remains of the wall, it's backbone having finally given out, crashed down behind them, accompanied by the unearthly roar of an Infernal. Eskay glanced backwards, catching a glimpse of the armored Knight of the Silver Hand raise his battle-hammer and, glowing with seals of Light, pushed off to intercept the Infernal. Stumbling on a rock, the beaten mage found himself pushed up right by the footman, Pat, who gave him a brief nod. Glancing toward the right Eskay breathed a sigh of relief to see Zeth marching right beside him, helping Noel, who looked far too pale, and seemed to be growing paler still, along. "Need help?"_

 

_"We're fine. You can still cast. No good to... No good to strain yourself more then... then needed." Noel gave Eskay a brief, exhausted smile before resuming her focus on the road ahead. Zeth didn't reply, likely too focused on simply standing up and moving, and helping Noel._

_Around them the bodies of the dead were cast like broken dolls, this position had been overrun hours ago when Scourge had first pushed into Dalaran to ransack the Library, with a little luck the Legion wouldn't bother checking back on this area, it still didn't make the stench of death or it's origins any easier to bare._

 

Eskay slowly pulled himself up from the floor, mustering what could possibly count as resolve, the mage marched across the room towards it center focused on the large metallic orb that had only slightly rolled out the broken draenei's hands, pointedly ignoring the amassing of corpses that wavered in the blue haze, all pointed away from the strange object, as if they had been caught, trying to escape. Swiping the orb off the floor Eskay gave it a passing inspection, it looked like some kind of engineer's dream bomb gone horribly wrong. What's more the thing was the only thing in the entirety of the Cenarion Thicket that felt completely devoid of mana. It didn't take much guess work to suppose that this orb.... thing had been the cause of the disaster. Death by Mana, to drown in chaos itself, what a horrible way to die.

 

_"We've got contact! Scourge patrol! Two ghouls with a handful of skeletons." The three other footmen drew their swords and unslung their shields while the refugee opposite Eskay tightened her grip on the pitchfork she had. The alarm sounder, Sam, had already steadied his shield and as the walking dead rushed up against the defenders, Eskay readied a short spell of fire in his mind, hoping to blast one of dead before it reached the fray. "Hey, Noel, wake up... Noel?" His thoughts disrupted Eskay glanced backwards, Zeth was kneeling on the grass, trying to hold Noel up. "Hey, Noel, look, this... this isn't time for a nap, you hear? Wake up."_

 

_All pretense of spell-casting abandoned, Eskay started towards the two._

 

_"Uh... hey... mage...? Where's that spellcasting...? Anytime now... would be great..."_

 

_"Noel... wake up... please?"_

 

_Eskay floundered between the two, on the one hand, something was wrong with Noel, on the other, everyone was counting on magical support to live through this fight, and he was the only mage in any form fit to cast._

 

_With a scream and a clashing of sword against bone, the battle began and Eskay's choice was made for him as one lumbering skeleton shot at him. Dispatching it with a blast of ice, Eskay turned to find another target, there was a pained wail from Zeth. Spinning around to see what was the matter, Eskay found himself staring at his friend slashing furiously at a ghoul with a sword conjured out of flames, Noel lay limp on the ground._

 

_The world turned numb, Eskay watched his friend draw more and more mana without any restraint, in complete defiance of ten years learning, madly slashing at what ever got in his way. The entire group was forced to withdraw or risk being cut down in the man's rampage. Eventually with nothing else to strike at, Zeth collapsed to the ground, he had gathered so much mana to him he gave off a blue haze, it was far to much any living creature could suffer, making Zeth's mental agony a physical one._

 

_After the screams stopped, they made sure to burn both bodies, lest the Scourge have them._

 

When Eskay brought the Terromoth samples and the bomb to the Cenarion tauren, he hadn't much to offer that Eskay hadn't already guessed at, except for the suggestion of questioning the Broken trader that peddled his wares up and down the road. The trader insisted on being difficult but a glare and muttered word of power, -cutting his bodyguard down- quickly changed his tune. He'd been shipping parts for an Ethereal in Shattrath.

 

Shattrath itself didn't seem to impressive to Eskay as he hurried through the entrance to the Lower City, the gathering of vagabonds and thieves plaguing the entryway, but he hardly spent the time to look around, instead simply singling out the Ethereal and bullying the information out of him. That lead him to a ruined city inhabited by Lost Ones, where after a brief incursion against an out of place Blood Elf, Eskay retrieved a strange sealed box. In the back of his mind, the mage wondered whether things always worked this smoothly for cold, lucid people. There seemed to be a lot more struggle when he simply bumbled about, but there was no time for that here. Someone had ruthlessly taken out an entire establishment of innocents, the Dalaran mage could bumble later, this was a crime that couldn't wait. The rumblings on the Tauren's accented speech broke Eskay's reverie. Was he already back here? His body seemed to be doing things without letting him in on it.

 

"... I think we should have a look inside that box." With all the care of gnome in a engineering convention, the tauren pried open the box's lid, revealing a strange assortment of alien metal parts, completely beyond Eskay's limited technological understanding. "I don't know about you, but I have no idea what all of those things are. I do know one thing though - they look dangerous! Eskay, I think you should take this box of parts to Jenai Starwhisper at the Allerian Stronghold to the southeast. She may have some idea of what these are." Eskay took back the box with a sigh and shut the lid on it. With his horse still missing, the mage would have to walk the entire way.

No matter, the pieces were falling in to place and whomever had done this, whomever was responsible for this, they'd soon be feeling very, very sorry for themselves, if they even lived that long. Once that was done, then there would be time for bumbling, but Justice first.

 


	29. 2.12.5 Devils... Monsters...

_"They're building a second mana bomb in the courtyard. My intel suggests that the final code for the bomb is being held by Sharth Voldoun, the overseer of the project at Firewing Point. Eskay, you have to go back in there and retrieve the final code from him. He keeps himself to the top of the highest spire._

_Take the final code to the mana bomb that they're working on in the central courtyard and set it off._

_Only then will we be certain that the Allerian Stronghold is safe."_

Holding himself against the wall, Eskay waited for the Firewing sentry to round the corner, when the blood elf obligingly neglected to look behind him the copper haired mage rushed up from behind, smashed the pointy-eared vermin over the head with his staff and then kicked the concussed elf off the tower and towards the ground below. From the looks of the aftermath, it seemed the ground might have been a bit too enthusiastic with it's welcoming embrace. Eh, the elf could sort that out with some lawyers later.

As Eskay neared the top of the gold and white trimmed tower, a sudden rush of prissy blood elf voices gave him pause, pressing himself against the wall, the mage tilted his head, trying to listen in. He'd never been good with Thalassian to began with and his understanding had only decayed over the years, but what he managed to make out was a tad worrying.

"My master, we are honest by its presence. How soon to serve?"

"The rise, young Voldoun. Give me not with pleasantries back anxiously. I come with the task of our master, prince Kael'thas. It offers to me control of the progress manabomb."

"Everything excessive well go, my lord. The test of the smaller prototype to the small wood of Cenarion was a complete success. The second bomb becomes rituellement of fuel in the court below even full whereas we speak. And, I to Tuurem have sent courier to bring us the rest of the pieces here. Satisfait more there east than You?"

"For the time which, yes is. However allows that my presence is a provoker. They have made thas with the lack of the experience of crystal in song to prince Kael dissatisfied that of the sky has fallen. These are of the reasons of because we to druids van such as chooses Cenarion the arguments of test for bomb"

"I have need you, not explain what mana the bomb Hofin am abolished down arrive, would one would have use soon on its aim? Since in the bunch, they have moved have been more and more annoyed our ventures has become: here with of Tuurem and to the south to Bonechewer ruin."

"I believe that we a lesson would have notify the horde and alliance. They do not forget soon!"

"I can that we, not to suppress itself, my master to assure to them. I personally direct each aspect of the construction, and even have the final codes. In the time of a day, I closely contributed the pump to the detonation on these found failures."

"See it, which make it for you, Sharth, or at me its torture will see personal and at slow death."

Eskay scratched his head, trying to sort things out. _Okay, so... the guy up -there- has the 'final code' for the blasted mana bomb, and his boss wants this bomb, used to blow up one of -our- towns. Nu-uh, not happening man, not happening._ Putting away his staff, Eskay reached for blade he'd recently acquired and grinned grimly as the gossamer edge of the blade flickered to life. Tugging down on the front of his obnoxiously orange hat, so that it, you know, wouldn't fall off, Eskay turned around the final bend in the ramp and was met by an angry pointy eared man swinging a blade towards Eskay's face.

"You come into my house and me threaten? I do not think!"

"You said it." Bashing the incoming sword away with a blast of ice, the mage frowned. If this eager little bugger was carrying the 'final code' then Eskay couldn't risk any fire spells, lest the code be burned to cinders as well. That would be bad. "You know what you need green eyes? You need to relax. Take it _slow_. I _insist_."

The elf glared furiously as the magic ensnared him, and his body struggled to move as if entrapped in molasses. "Oh, what's the matter pretty boy? Feeling a little mad?" Eskay's hands glowed a frigid blue, "Here, let me help ya out, with a nice refreshing frostbolt. To the face." The bolt of ice shot towards the elf, scaring his face as he slowly marched onwards, glowering with fury, sword raised.

"What's this? You want more ya little sunbunny? You little freaks _like_ mana don't ya? Yeah, I bet you like it alot. Here, let me share some." The elf staggered backwards as blast after blast of arcane energy smashed into him.

"Aw, what's the matter? Tired?" Eskay gave the elf a mock look of concern as the battered warrior, finally within striking distance struggled to raise his sword. "Here, let me help put ya to sleep? You'd like that yes?" The gossamer sword flickered into existence once more in Eskay's hand, and then flared a brighter, more solid blue. Eskay lashed outwards and the elf crumpled to the ground, slowly at first, then at full speed as the magic snaring him released. His eyes had barely dulled before Eskay finished looting the body and kicked it over the edge.

Ripping open the small black envelope the mage had found Eskay starred at the single phrase in bafflement. _The final code is 'Sunbunny Love'? What?_ With a sigh and a shrug, the mage incinerated the paper and jumped off the tower, feather in one hand, and glided down towards the courtyard as the effects of the slow fall spell took hold. Except for a small and dazed few, the courtyard was effectively empty of living creatures, -that had already been... addressed. Even so, the elves seemed to have an unending supply of reinforcements and it wouldn't be long until the entire place was completely covered in the mana tapping rodents again.

Landing gently onto the ground, Eskay stormed past the various ritual circles laid out on the ground, glowing purple with vibrant, latent energies, towards the center of the entire Firewing Outpost, the small orb, almost identical to the one from the Cenarion Thicket bubbled up and down on a channel of energy. Taking a step back Eskay realized with growing astonishment that every single circle in the courtyard was perfectly lined up to channel energy into this... thing, this _bomb_. The bomb itself seemed almost filled, radiating a faint blue hue of mana seeping out from the unsealed bottom. Lacking any obvious way to enter the code, Eskay opted for the tried and true verbal method. "Um.... Sunbunny Love?" The orb's bottom entrance snapped shut, and shot higher into the air, still riding the fountain of energy. A small red band along one side started blinking slowly at first, then faster, and faster. Eskay watched, entranced until it occurred to him that this was the countdown, and that now would be a very good time to leave. Fast. "Oh dear." Turning about, Eskay flailed wildly off balance before catching his stride and rushed away as a crowd of concerned blood elves gathered around the orb. Eskay heard a scream of panic and the accompanying stampede as the fools realized what was going on.

There was a loud noise, like the sound of the universe's largest balloon popping and the shock-wave of disturbed air knocked Eskay head over feet into a tree. Behind him there was a shudder as buildings groaned, but there was no sound of any sort of crashing mortar. Pulling himself up and grabbing his hat out of a tree branch, Eskay winced, rubbing his back. Failing to see any sort of killer blue wave of mana death coming at him, the mage eased his way back towards the courtyard to survey the results, to see if the worthless vermin liked a taste of their own medicine.

The entire courtyard was entrenched in the heavy blue mist, carts were over turned, and the straggling blood elves that had been unable to escape the explosion writhed on the ground, screaming for help, and attempting to crawl away. Eskay watched with a cooling satisfaction as the implication of his actions began to dawn on him. Not a single elf he had dealt away with would be able to have a proper mourning, having been burned to cinders, or smashed apart, or rolled over the edge and left to plummet into the abyss, he'd cruelly mocked their leader as he was slowly killed, and now had doomed a good dozen of them to the sort of death he had at first adamantly declared was far too horrible for anyone. It had seemed so simple at first; blast all the worthless elves to the Nether and then bomb the ones that were left, it was fitting revenge for having so pointlessly destroying the Cenarion Thicket with so terrible a weapon. But... now that it was actually done... Now that Firewing operation had been stopped for good, and the screams of the dying rended the air, drowning in mana.

Eskay didn't really feel any better, and with the aching eyes, aching throat, the odd escaping sob... if those were any clue, he felt worse.


	30. 2.13 Making Nice

The light feebly pierced through the interweaving branches of the Terokkar forest, along the winding path an interesting scene was being carried out. A timber worg snarled as its prey, an armored horse with purple eyes reared on it’s hind legs.

Eskay watched with interest. It was about time the blasted horse got it’s comeuppance.

\--------------------

“ _Vakz Don!_ ” The brilliant orb in the mage’s hand combusted in a shower of flames, slamming into the hindquarters of the timber worg. With a yelp the wolf turned to attack Eskay.

A gloved hand reached out and grabbed the creature’s muzzle. “ _Rue Kruz._ ” A blast of ice shot the worg backwards, head over tails.

\--------------------

Eskay eyed his horse skeptically. “Right. I’ve got no time for games. You’ve got two choices. Stay with me and behave, or try your luck with the forest again.” The mage crossed his arms. “I doubt you’ll have the luck of a second rescue.”

The horse snorted and looked ready to break into a run.

\--------------------

Eskay patted the horse as they neared the Allerian Stronghold, “If it’s all the same with you, I’ma going to stick with calling you ‘Yew’, instead of ‘Yew Bast’tard’. Much nicer really, and Yew is a fine, sturdy tree.” The horse snorted.

The gaurds at the gate give them an odd look before inching away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 note: Again, there’s a 2.13 and a 2.15, what was 2.14??? I have no idea.]


	31. 2.15 Meddle Ye Not, In The Affairs Of Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 note: Again, there’s a 2.13 and a 2.15, what was 2.14??? I have no idea.]

It was hot in Tanaris.

Eskay wiped away the sweat gathering on his brow, frowning in concentration. If he and Maleren were to make any sort of lasting change to the timeline then they'd need to understand far more about the Caverns of Time then they did now, which could be neatly summed up as; 'It exists, it's got something to do with time.' Altogether not a very impressive store of information to draw upon.  
Continuing to draw arcane glyphs into the windswept sand Eskay glanced at the several sheets of parchment he had brought along to help with his spell-checking. Casting as complicated a spell as one to scry into the affairs of dragons was dangerous enough in itself. Doing it within an area of questionable temporal stability was rather like covering yourself in meat sauce and then trying to do a conga-line dance with a pack of starving sharks. The trick is to make the other sharks think your just another shark, and not in fact a tasty bite-sized morsel already dressed-to-go.

This might possibly be a tad difficult.

If even a single number was off by the tiniest fraction... then... well. Eskay wasn't quite too sure what would happen. Possibly something unpleasant. Of course, he had likely gotten all the numbers right. He'd only spent the last month checking them over and over. Besides, after all the terrible things in the past, Karma owed him this, didn't it?

Briefly wondering whether it was bad karma to call karma to account the nerve-wracked mage looked over the spell-work with an approving nod. Picking up his staff, half buried in sand at this point, Eskay looked up towards the eye blisteringly bright sun and with a deep breath, began reciting the incantation...

A fly landed on his nose. It tickled

Screwing his eyes shut and wiggling his nose, Eskay continued on, no one knew what happened if you stopped this kind of spell in midcast. With all the mana tied into it, no one had ever been stupid enough to try. With a kind of malicious intent akin to all small animals everywhere the fly continued to crawl around his face, inspecting it's newest landing perch with a kind of frenzied interest.

As Eskay inhaled for the final stanza of the spell the fly settled itself on top of his nose... and bit him. A horsefly then, or rather a horsefly after evolving over the generations to have mandibles capable of biting through the only other flesh in town, leathery troll skin.

Eskay's eyes opened wide.  
"Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"  
And all that magic, having lost direction, came crashing down.

Sometime later, three flies flew off from the disaster site.


	32. X.X Boundary Nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: This title page originally included a big old landscape screenshot, now lost to time and old file formats]

I bet we're gonna keep going like this, even if one lie leads to another.  
We'll never be able to go back on this path again.  
On the other side of the borderline you crossed that time.  
What kind of dreams did you paint as you fell?  
The future that becomes visible tomorrow isn't really that great.  
But just maybe we're living clinging on to it anyway.  
I bet you and I are looking for the same thing in different places. Searching and feeling for the one, single truth.  
I want to know it so badly that  
I am here holding nothing.  
Drifting between dreams and reality. -We're too close to the edge!-  
Translated excerpt from;  
Edge by Yuki Kajiura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: And that’s everything I wrote for the adventures of Eskay Diaz, Dalaran Mage on the World of Warcraft Shadow Council Server 2005-2007. It's only as an adult that I understand why everyone found the title 'Flaming Mage' so funny.  
> I forgot I left on such an ominous ending there. From what I can remember now, by this point my gender dysphoria was getting harder to ignore (Not that I understood it as such at the time) and I had this idea of remaking Eskay as a woman and using a magical accident as an RP justification? But I was a teenager with no money and it was cheaper, and frankly, less scary, to just make a new character, Eskanra Dawnrunner, a Blood Elf Paladin. Because of course.  
> I only ended up writing one thing for Eskanra, which I’ll append at the end here for completionist’s sake. I had really liked the initial premise for Blood Knights, but Blizzard took it in the most boring possible route, and by 2008 it was time for college and I made an active decision to stop playing WoW to try and focus on having real life friends. I regret dropping off a cliff on everyone now, but personal growth wise, switching my focus like that was for the best honestly!
> 
> If someone from the old Shadow Council RP-Haven somehow happens to see this; then it must be fate. Don’t be shy, drop me a line! God, I can’t believe how long it’s been]


	33. Eskanra – Promised Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Erin circa 2019 Note: Alright, here’s the only surviving work I have for Eskanra]

To My Lady,

I have made it to the Promised Land at last, and am sending you this report as your ladyship requested. This shattered realm our... 'allies' the orcs refer to as 'Outland' has lived up to and beyond it's name! In the very skies of this shattered realm one can watch the weaving of the Twisted Nether itself, undistorted by any mortal azerothian atmosphere. My Lady, the sight is more breathtaking then any I have seen in all my years in Eversong. The mana is everywhere one looks, you need simply breath in this crisp alien air and all your aches are soothed away. The difference between this broken land and our former home is as to the difference between night and day. Truly elfkind was not meant to live out of this gentle sea of magic.

The land itself is another matter I am saddened to report. The extension of rock the Dark Portal rests on is sheared and blasted, with edges that drop into the black oblivion of the Nether itself. The entire location is infested with Burning Legion scum, and I have worked studiously with the local Horde encampments in containing their presence. As it stands, I am preparing to move further into the Promised Land, past this ravaged doorstep and into the heart of our new home. The corps at Thrallmar provided me with a basic map of the region and I shall be filling in the finer details as I move along, but I have also enclosed a copy for your perusal.

I understand the center of the Land to be called 'Zangarmarsh' and rumor talks that it is filled with mushrooms the size of trees and is, fittingly, more of a marsh then a true land. I shall send further information as I go along and gather first hand information.

I also connected with the Pilgrimage camp at Falcon Watch and I am pleased to report that the establishment of a proper pilgrimage path from the Dark Portal is going as well as can be expected. Beyond that point, the Captain and the rest are unsure of how to proceed, and I must join them in their uncertainty. Going on Pilgrimage to the Promised Land is all well and good, but the land is anything but tamed, and the people have no particular destination to head to.

My Lady, if I might be so bold as to ask, why did you request these reports? The opening of the Dark Portal and the news of the Promised Land is not news. Surely everything I have told you here is well known by now to one such as yourself.

Further more, I have yet to hear a single word of our beloved Prince and wise ruler, Prince Kael'Thas. Why would our Prince prepare us for this journey and not welcome us at all when we at last enter this Land he has Promised to us? I have not heard yet of even the smallest report from his command.

I know the demands of command put a limit on what you can, and can not say, to one of as little rank of myself, and I will continue looking for even the smallest word about our Prince, and should I learn of anything at all in regards to such matters, My Lady your ears will be the first ones I tell.

Sincerely,

Eskanra Dawnrunner, Blood Knight of Silvermoon


End file.
